


breakfast on the moon

by DairyFarmer



Series: chicken soup for the stars [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Abduction, Aliens, Alternate Universe, Black Paladin Shiro (Voltron), Blue Paladin Allura (Voltron), Blue Paladin Lance (Voltron), But it gets better I swear, Langst, M/M, Red Paladin Keith (Voltron), farmer lance, i know it might seem darkish but i swear its not- well not that much, lance thinks keiths a city slicker, lance was some alien grad students project, lances dream was to be prom king, they find lance on sale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16997514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DairyFarmer/pseuds/DairyFarmer
Summary: Future Prom King, student body president, and all around hottie Lance McClain is abducted from his home in Arizona in 1997.He is found decades later in the clearance section of an Earth paraphernalia store by the Paladins of Voltron.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yall have no idea how long this au has been a wip

In truth, Lance thought that scaling down his second floor bedroom window and cutting through the corn fields to sneak out and go to Jackie Craig’s birthday party was a pretty solid idea.

Mom always stayed up late to watch Letterman so there’s no way she wouldn’t spot him trying to make a break for the front door

Dad always liked taking a late night drive before heading to bed, so trying to slip out by using the dirt road that connected  their house towards the main street was a huge no-no.

He’d be spotted in an instant and grounded so hard he wouldn’t be able to pee without them knowing about it.

So a leap of faith and a quick roll in the corn husks it was.

But that’s not a big deal because Lance was _ready_. He’d been planning his great escape for the last three days during study hall (with a doodled plan in his chemistry notebook for a rope made out of bed sheets so he could sneak back up to his room in the morning and everything).

“Jackie Craig, here I come.”

Lance grinned, wrapping his fingers around the tightly tied knot of his pillowcase and letting both legs dangle out the window, feeling strangely reminded of the wicked witch of the east.

With both hands clenched on his makeshift rope and both feet planted against the side of the house, Lance slowly scaled down, careful not to jostle his pockets which were filled with a pilfered can of his mom’s hair spray and his older brother’s fine toothed comb.

It was a little known fact that everyone, including Lance, voted for Scotty Gene as Homecoming King because he had the best goddamn hair in the world and if Lance was going to win Prom King he _needed_ to step his game up.

And what better way to kickstart his campaign than by looking like the next Jaromir Jagr? Lance had been slowly growing his hair out for the last year, and the tips just barely beginning to tickle the nape of his neck.

Landing with a soft thud, Lance immediately began making his way around the side of the house, using his hand to feel for the paneling. He lets the dim lighting of the back porch lead him in the direction of the rows of maize laying behind it.

The stalks have been growing well, multiple ears of corn are blossoming, large and thick and heavy with healthy green leaf sheaths cocooning them. The guide ropes are still up from when his dad had temporarily carved out a maze for Halloween and Lance knows for a fact that even in the pitch black darkness of night that if he just held onto them and followed them through the field he’d be out and on his was way in less than a couple of minutes.

Still there’s the slightest gurgle of nervousness that rolls around in his stomach. The night is hot and the air is so dry he’s had to apply his sister’s roll on lip gloss twice within the last hour (so what if it didn’t do anything, he liked how it smelled like watermelon).

Even so, he takes a final glance behind him, double checking to see that nobody was going to burst through the backdoor and drag him back to bed with a lecture bubbling out of their mouths and probably some hand waving about how he was _‘going to get an earful from your father!’._

A quick peek down at his watch tells him that if he hurries he might be able to get to the party fast enough to snag a few slices of pizza before everyone else gobbles it down.

So without a second thought, Lance walks into the field.

The leaves hang slightly low, rustling his hair and Lance has to continuously keep batting them away with his free arm. The field is so dark he can’t even see his own hand in front of his face. But if he turned his head and focused a little, he was able to make out the distant twinkle of street lights from the main road.

By the time he thinks he’s about a quarter through, some unconsciously tense part of him starts to relax. It’s probably got more or less to do with the fact that he just happened to watch a rerun of ‘Children of the Corn’ on TV last week even though he insisted to his older brother that he hadn’t been scared. Still didn’t stop him from skiving off from helping his dad when the irrigation system broke down and they needed to go into the rows and find out what was wrong.

Lance continues walking, stepping between the rows with light foot falls and trying to avoid stepping on a few knocked over stalks.

He’s about half way through when a weird feeling suddenly hits him and his body goes as rigid as a starched collar.

His mouth is suddenly bone dry, tongue feeling like he’d just bitten into a wasp’s nest on a dare. A sheen of sweat breaks out onto his forehead, with a chill that has every hair on his arm stand up. His ears suddenly pop, the ache forcing him to hunch over in surprised distress and nearly overshadowing the sudden metallic taste creeping up from the back of his throat.

For a brief moment Lance thinks that he may be having a seizure, or maybe it’s an allergic reaction, or maybe the brownies he pilfered off the table at dinner were actually some of the ‘special’ ones he’d heard so much about at school and this was him _tripping_.

The buzzing of a thousand bees in his ears and what feels like a super surge of wind from above makes him think that it might be D. none of the above.

Without much of a thought, body working faster than his brain- Lance turns tail. His eyes are immediately searching for the distant twinkle of the road.

_Where there’s roads, there’s people, where there’s people, there’s help._

Lance bolts, hands slapping at husks of corn, knocking them down from their cocooned perches.

He’s long since lost his grip on the guide ropes.

Despite the throbbing in his ears, Lance can hear the closer he gets to civilization, the louder the sound of traffic becomes.

He can see the headlights of cars vollying back and forth in front of him like they were the most boring game of tennis in the world.

He can see the warm glow of street lights lined up across the street.

Lance is a few steps away when something tugs on him. The feeling is deep in his gut, like every organ in his body has suddenly lost it’s attachments to gravity and are floating inside of him.

It’s a feeling that gets him close to hurling. A single breath in and Lance feels everything around him fade, his world becomes a wispy smoke and for a single horrible second he wonders if this means that Scotty Gene will win Prom King too.

And so Lance McClain disappears, ferried away from his home- inches away from salvation.

XxX

Pidge thought that it really was just a stroke of pure luck that Hunk had noticed the Earth store.

Of all the times they’d visited the swap moon, they still had yet to see every single part of it. And of the probably thousands of stores, Hunk managed to spot just the right one.

Even as they wander in, a reluctant Keith and curious Shiro close behind, Pidge can’t help but feel a sudden wave of nostalgia.

The stuff in the store is _dated_ , that’s for sure. Pidge spots entire shelves stocked to the brim with CD-ROMs, another one has bobble heads that feature anywhere from decades dead actors to recently drafted baseball players, there’s a corner with stacks of old Newspapers with the words _‘Titanic Recreated Model Sinks’_ written on it with fading ink.

Pidge is nearly positive that the owner of the shop has absolutely zero clue about what any of the stuff is given the fact that they spot the green alien at the counter using a DVD copy of Fahrenheit 451 as a coaster.

Pidge wanders between racks of nurse’s scrubs, passing by Shiro who’s carefully shaking a snow globe of the Eiffel tower. Hunk is eagerly stacking boxes of long expired chocolate covered cherries into a resigned Keith’s hands.  

It’s near the entrance where Pidge spots boxes upon boxes of Mercury Gameflux II and copies of Killbot-Phantasm I.

They’re at the counter in a fraction of a second.

The green alien at the register reminds Pidge of every single bad doodle done and posted on the forums she’d scour about extraterrestrials when Matt and dad had first gone missing.

Slowly, Pidge puts down the console and a copy of K-P1, pushing it forward and speaking in their best ‘bartering’ voice.

“How much for the console?”

The green alien tilts their head down, unbridled surprise on their face. Pidge can probably guess that given the contents of his store, the guy probably doesn’t get a whole lot of customers.

“1200 GAC.” They report.

Pidge grins and immediately reaches into the small coin pouch Allura had given each of them. The Blade of Marmora was able to offer them some funds for Voltron to be able to purchase empire manufactured goods when weren’t able to barter for it. Hopefully Pidge had enough left over from their last trip to the mall to be able to afford it.

They dump their pouch on the counter, spilling several Galra coins and making a light ‘tinkling’ sound. Slowly, they begin counting out their change.

Pidge is short.

By about 1120 GAC.

The devastation must be clear on their face because the alien at the counter immediately tries to offer a solution.

“Perhaps your friends-”

Pidge is gone before he even finishes.

Shiro startles when Pidge nearly runs him into a wall full of car freshners.

“Shiro!” Pidge says whispering urgently. “I need money!”

Shiro’s eyes are widened in surprise, a slight furrow of confusion in his brows that all but disappears after a few seconds.

“Uh, sure Pidge.” The black paladin acquiesced, hands already reaching for the pouch hanging as a necklace around his neck. “How much do you need?”

“1120.”

Shiro freezes, open palm holding a paltry amount of GAC.

Pidge wants to cry.

“Um.” He begins awkwardly, eyes drifting down to his palm as if double checking might be able to double the amount. “I have 150.”

Pidge sadly accepts the coins with a soft ‘tingle’.

Pidge knows that Hunk will probably be using most of his GAC to buy to chocolate cherries so any change he could offer afterwards wouldn’t make much of a dent.

Which means Keith was the only one left.

Slowly, Pidge slides over to their side where the red paladin putting down the stacks of boxes on a couple of water coolers.

“Keith.” Pidge begins, hands fiddling nervously in front of them.

Keith offers them a short glance, brow raised in silent curiosity.

“Could I borrow some money?”

“What?” Keith asks, head inclined in question.

Pidge opens their palm, showing him the growing mound of coins.

“I found a copy of Killbot-Phantasm but it’s really expensive. Shiro spotted me some but I’m still short.”

Pidge hopes that Keith secretly has a soft spot for them and will offer at least a couple of tenners because the next step is raiding the mall fountains and while Pidge could do it, they don’t think they’d be able to handle the disapproval Shiro would load them with.

“Oh, yeah sure.” Keith says, shrugging and reaching into his side pouches. Pidge watches with wide-eyed surprise as he pulls out several 100 GAC coins.

“Woah.” Pidge says, awe reverberating through their voice. “Haven’t you bought anything since Allura started giving us an allowance?” Pidge asked in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Keith looks like he’s thinking as he dumps three 100 GAC coins into Pidge’s little squirrel hands.

“I bought some blade polish a while back but Kolivan sends me some for free. So...no, not really.” Keith shrugs like the fact that him giving Pidge 300 GAC was not the single nicest thing that anyone had ever done for them.

Pidge is going to owe him. Even if Keith were to insist otherwise. Pidge _owes_ him.

Grinning widely and with a quick word of ‘thanks’ over their shoulder, Pidge heads for the counter where the alien is finishing ringing up Hunk’s boxes of candy.

Without a single word from them, Hunk immediately turns and drops 20 GAC into Pidge’s hands with a small smile. Pidge grins back up at them in return.

As Hunk steps away, Pidge steps up to the counter, silently beginning to count out the coins, dread beginning to fill them as they realized that even with all their funds together, it still didn’t meet the halfway mark.

The alien must see that too because he offers Pidge a slightly sympathetic inkling of his head.

“Maybe,” he begins slowly, “you may have better luck in the discount section?” He angles his hand, pointing a round end pointed finger towards the back fo the store, separated by a thin curtain. Red signs are on top of the doorway and Pidge knows they must be saying something about one thing or another being 50-60% off like all the other stores on Earth.

Of course, this was an Earth inspired store- of course there’s a _clearance section._

“Could I get this put on hold or something?” Pidge asks, eyes wide and earnest as they stared up at the green alien.

The alien, glances behind him, this time it’s a list printed in english probably the same one that’s in every Earth store Pidge has ever been in.

_‘1.No shirts, no shoes, no service. 2. Tabs are for valued customers 3. Holds are for purchasing customers’_

Okay.

Purchasing customers.

Pidge just needs to buy something.

Peeking in the direction of the discount section, they immediately make their way over. Maybe they could find something like a keychain or cool hat or something.

Brushing the curtain aside, Pidge wanders in.

The stuff present in this part is noticeably older and a whole lot less...useful. The majority of the space is taken up by a gutted and rusty car sitting in the middle of the room.

Pidge is gunna take a hard pass on that one. Half of an electrical pole is slanted against a wall and beside what looks like a life sized toy box.

Out of nothing but pure curiosity, Pidge wanders over, fingers running over the thick material of the large box. Words are printed along the back in foreign alphabet but Pidge gets the feeling that it’s probably care instructions for whatever’s inside. It doesn’t look like anything from Earth, so what it’s doing sitting in an Earth store is pretty-

Pidge stops.

Oh.

Oh damn.

It’s not the box that’s from Earth.

It’s what’s _inside_.

Packaged up inside like a toy dressed up for Christmas morning is a human. A literal _actual_ human.

He looks around Hunk and Keith’s age. A light blue turtleneck is tucked into acid washed jeans and paired with a roughed up denim jacket. His hair is long, curling at around his neck and if Pidge had to hazard a guess they’d say it was a neater groomed version of Keith’s mullet.

The way he’s arranged in a box, with instructions on the side remind Pidge so much of the dolls they’d get from aunts as birthday presents that Pidge wouldn’t be surprised if the teen inside came along with his own accessories. Sunglasses, a backpack, and two different outfits for night and day wear.

As Pidge stares up at the (admittedly kind of cute) older teen, it doesn’t fully occur to them until a few minutes later that maybe they should _tell_ someone about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall ever watch toystory 2 where buzz gets put into a toybox and put back on the shelf?? ya- you can see where the inspiration at the end came from and dont worry this isnt as dark as it may seem right now  
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> if after dec17 i have to switch platforms then ill make sure to edit the changes!  
> XxX  
> originally the name of the fic was something i came up with but then i found [a song by the same name!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kh8FE36Q-sM)  
> (ironically about a guy falling in love with an alien on the moon)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lance wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been beginning to rewatch clueless for lance's character establishment <3

Given the fact that they’d found another _human_ in an alien store, trillions of light-years away from Earth and with no idea of how he’d even _gotten_ there- Shiro thought it’d be fair to be a _little_ bit more confused than normal.

Not that anything that happened since they’d all left Earth was remotely within the _vicinity_ of what he could once consider normal.

Still. He had to admit. This one was pretty baffling.

“How do you think he got here?” Hunk asks, voicing the question they’d all been asking themselves since Pidge had dragged them into the backroom of that earth store.

Shiro’s initial shock and bewilderment had almost immediately turned to suspicion upon arriving to the counter to inquire about their little ‘discovery’. Mainly because Shiro had no good memories of people who kidnapped others from their home planets and surrounding galaxies.

“Who knows?” Pidge responds, eyes still filled with confused wonder as they helped Keith push the container into their pod’s storage compartment. Behind them a quiet ‘moo’ sounded from their new Kaltenecker.

“Shuuu.” Hunk soothed, absentmindedly stroking her side as he maneuvered her hoverpad in alongside their ‘John Doe’.

“Your guesses are probably as good as mine.” Keith adds, jumping over the box and into one of the seats along the walls of the pod. Shiro waits with a slowly simmering urgency as Hunk and Pidge both climbed in, not sparing another moment before letting the pod activate and begin their flight back to the Castleship.

Allura and Coran should be done with their video-conference of their next Coalition stop- at least Shiro hopes they are.

Whoever it is that’s sitting in their trunk can’t possibly be left lying in that containment now that they all _know_ that they’re there. Shiro knows that if it were him that were stuffed in that box, he’d wanna be let out as soon as possible.

Chancing a glance behind him, Shiro traces the soft and slightly pudgy cheeks of the teen with his eyes. His eyes are closed and there’s no furrow in his brow, nothing to imply he had at all been in distress when he had been locked in.

He almost looks like he could be asleep.

Turning back around, Shiro urges the pod to go a bit faster and mentally crosses his fingers that whoever’s inside will be able to be woken up again.

XxX

“And you just found him inside one of the swap shops?” Coran asks, gaze inquisitive as he slowly walked around the propped up container. Allura stood behind him, eyes a mix between intrigued and wary as she looked up at their John Doe.

“Pidge found him.” Keith replies, leaning against one of the healing pods of the med bay.

“Can you check to see if he’s okay?” Hunk asks, hands clenched in front of him anxiously, looking like he was deciding between checking himself and standing back and letting Coran do it.

“We didn’t have any of our stuff,” Pidge adds, shifting from foot to foot, “so we couldn’t check if he was...okay in there.”

“He seems alright.” Coran says, ear pressed against the clear window into the crate. Behind him, several tensed shoulder relax. “If I had to guess I’d have to say he was being dry-stored.”

Hunk makes a vaguely questioning noise.

“It’s a popular way for researchers and collectors to store specimen.” Coran advised them, his gaze suddenly turning questioning. “Though why they would do this to one of your species I’m not certain.”

“Earth is pretty unknown.” Shiro says, stepping closer as Coran began slowly knocking at different parts of the container in what seemed like a known pattern. “The Galra didn’t seem to know about it when they took us from Kerberos.”

“Do you think the same thing happened to him?” Keith asks, suddenly straightening and walking over to stand beside Shiro.

“I can’t say anything for sure.” Shiro replies quietly, eyes focused as Coran suddenly activated a keypad, it’s display shining a brilliant orange on the front of the viewing glass. “I guess we’ll just have to ask him.”

Hunk and Pidge tense up in front of them, their breath held as they watched the 4 corners of the storage box slowly collapse down. The material began folding in on itself like it was origami paper. The teen standing inside was greyed out without the light from the box shining down on him.

He looked like the blank page of a new coloring book.

Slowly, he began to refill with color. His cheeks beginning to flush a rosy hue, his hair a soft brown that fluffed up and brushed the collar of his deepening denim jacket. His sneakers were dirty, fresh mud clumped at the bottom with jeans that were rolled up at the ankle and had a blue turtleneck tucked into it.

He looked like what every other teen on Earth looked like- one with a rare fashion sense, but a regular teenager nonetheless.

They watched, anticipation curling in their stomachs as he suddenly took a sharp intake of breath, hunching over and pressing a hard hand to his chest.

An air of concern flitted through the air for a moment before clenched eyes snapped open, revealing cloudy  blue eyes, filled with apposite confusion.

XxX

When Lance first felt the wind get knocked out of him, heart beating with fierce disorientation, he took a moment to cross his fingers and hope it hadn’t been because of drugs.

He’d taken a signed pledge to stay drug-free back in freshman year that his mom made him repeat when he came home and just knew if he broke it he’d get hell for it (she even went as far as to embroider it on a pillow that stared at him from where it sat on his comforter in green floss ‘ _I, Lance McClain am R.A.D. Rockingly Against Drugs’_ )

It’s something he knew would get him beat up if anyone from school ever found out about it.

The longer he stood, frozen muscles unclenching-  a smoky feeling beginning to leave his lungs, the more likely that thought seemed to become.

Pressing a hand to his chest, a small burn persisting that felt just like the one time he tried a cigarette after a pep rally.

 _‘Fuck.’_ He couldn’t help but think. _‘I can’t believe I did drugs and can’t even remember it.’_

Man when mom came to wake him up for school he was gunna _get it_ -

Wait.

Lance freezes, hand pressing against his chest.

Mom?

 _Why_ would mom wake him up?

 _When_ did he go to sleep?

 _Where_ did he go to sleep?

_Where is he?_

A sudden snap to awareness is what forces his eyes open, the sting of dry-eye making him blink several times before he can focus on what’s in front of him.

White walls. White floor. Sterile air.

_Holy shit he was in the hospital._

Lance felt his breath quicken for a hot second, his eyesight blurry like there was a film over it but steadily gaining clarity. A set of strong hands landed on his shoulders, turning him around and urging him to march to one side of the room.

_Fuck. Those were cop hands._

Lance briefly contemplated resisting but he figured he’d already disappointed his grandmother’s spirit enough.

Letting himself get pulled, several voices began talking in low tones behind him, if he strained he could probably make out what they were saying but Lance was also being led somewhere by someone who’d busted him so it was probably for the best that he just went along with it and hoped he could charm them out of calling his dad.

Man, what’d he even get busted for?

Maybe it was a mistake?

Lance knew that those indie kids from his school with hippie parents would sneak into his dad’s cornfields at night to make-out and stuff.

Oh shit, did they think he was like _with_ them or something?

“Easy now,” The copper holding his shoulders said, easing him forward until his hands began feeling around what felt like a sink. “Chamber knees are nothing like stasis re-awareness.” He adds.

Jesus. Is that what he was on?

Lance had never heard someone call any drug he knew ‘chamber knees’, not even the super old people form church who complained about the ‘youth’ and shit that Lance was relatively positive just made up half the things they complained about.

Warm water began running between his fingers.

“We’ll clear up those eyes of yours in just a tic!”

Fuck, they pepper sprayed him too?!

“Do I get a lawyer?” Lance can’t help but ask, his voice the barest edge of a whimper as he leant down and cupped his hands until they overflowed.

Lance had heard about what happened to pretty boys like him when they got into trouble with the law.

That bigmouth sophomore Shelby Baxter had told the whole school all about how she’d seen Vincent ‘Hot Lips’ McNamera picking up trash off the highway in a community service vest after he’d gone down for crashing into his neighbor’s Bentley after a night of partying.

Vincent ended up changing schools after that.

But Lance couldn’t afford to transfer schools, at least not so late into the semester (and especially not with Prom right around the corner, he’d never get a date!).

Lance began miserably dunking his face into the water like a clown at the fair.

He was a clown.

“Is he crying?” Lance heard someone murmur lowly behind him.

Great. Not even ten minutes in and he’s already losing prison cred.

He had kind of hoped that he’d be able to hide the tears when he dunked his head down again but apparently he doesn’t even get the dignity of being able to cry at his impending arrest.

Lance is offered a soft, cloth towel by his future parole officer to wipe away the strange stickiness of his skin. He rubbed at his eyes especially hard and hoped any redness could be explained away with an allergy to hard time.

“My name is Coran.” The man at his back said, urging Lance away from the sink.

“Hi Officer Coran.” Lance greeted back weakly, sniffling and hoping the cloth towel covering his face muffled it. “Can I call my mom or are you guys going to do it?”

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about.”

Lance lowers his hands from his face, gaze cautiously peeking from between his fingers as a _straight up fox_ stepped in closer. Their gaze was gentle but as Lance’s eyes traced over the scar cutting across their nose, he couldn’t help but feel like new-guy would’ve been one of the background extras in The Shawshank Redemption with his weird juxtaposition.

“My name’s Shiro.” He greets, offering a metal arm.

A metal arm.

An arm made of metal.

Arm metal.

Lance pushes back bubbling thoughts of Robocop and the Terminator. Especially pushing back on the thought of him having a copy of ‘Robocop versus the Terminator’ currently plugged into his Nintendo at home.

“I’m Lance.” He murmurs in return.

Lance shakes the hand with as much composure as he can manage while trying not to think of that one scene where Peter Weller stops a crook from robbing a convenience store by bending the barrel of his gun.

Shiro grips his arm tightly, but not enough to snap Lance’s wrist in the opposite direction.

Lance feels oddly thankful.

“I know this might be a very confusing situation.” Shiro begins.

Understatement.

“But I was wondering if you could tell us how you got... _here_.” He says it with such emphasis, eyes lingering on Lance like he was genuinely at a loss for Lance’s current state of existence.

Lance personally thought that was a bit of a rude way to look at someone.

As well as a pretty loaded question.

“I’m..” Lance begins, glancing around him.

_What is here?_

Three other juvie destinees are watching him with varying expressions of question.

Strange.

_This doesn’t look like a hospital._

They don’t look like the typical law-breaking troublemakers Lance thought they would be (then again neither does he.)

_Why is there no doctor?_

And Lance can’t help but absently note how nicely coiffed the hair of the boy in the red jacket is.

“I can repeat it if you want.” Shiro says, interrupting Lance’s thought.

_Where are his parents?_

Lance’s eyes snapped back to him.

Shiro’s lips pursed, a furrow of concern developing between his brows as he raised his hands in what looked like a calming gesture.

Like Lance was some scared little gazelle that might bolt at the first sign of danger.

Lance isn’t sure why that thought felt oddly fitting.

_Where is here?_

“How did you get here?” Shiro repeats, voice slow, almost soothing as he rested a steadying hand on Lance’s shoulder.

_Here?_

“I..” Lance starts, eyes shifting from staying on Shiro to his hands that were still clenching the thin towel.

_Jackie Craig’s Party._

“...was goin’ to Jackie Craig’s Party.” Lance finally musters, the recall hitting him like a freight train.

_Snuck out the window like the wicked witch of the east._

“I snuck out through the window...”

_Cut through the cornfields._

“I cut through the cornfields.”

_…_

“...I cut through the cornfields.” Lance repeats slowly.

_…_

“And-”

_What happened after ‘and’?_

_Lights._

_Police lights?_

_Street lights?_

_Car lights?_

_House lights?_

_...Starlights?_

_Here._

_Where is here?_

“Where is here?” Lance asks, tongue heavy in his mouth as he asked. He looks up at Shiro.

Shiro’s gaze is heavy. Empathetic.

Lance is confused.

“Lance,” Shiro begins, putting his Robocop arm on Lance’s other shoulder. “We’re not on Earth.”

Slowly, he begins turning Lance, inviting him to turn around.

There’s a window behind him. It stretches up to the ceiling and down to the floor, going from wall to wall. It’s dark outside. There’s stars.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Lance breathes.

Lance has never seen so many stars.

XxX

Lance once went on a date with Jennifer Lindt in junior year.

He even managed to get his older brother to drop them off at the movie theater for their outing.

Lance had wanted to see the new Adam Sandler movie but Jennifer was insistent that they see some alien flick that was supposed to be _all that_.

Lance didn’t remember it all that well- but a conversation from it suddenly worked its way into his head as he sat still beside ‘Keith’ and ‘Hunk’ while Officer Coran and Princess Allura prepared a diagnostic to check his health.

‘ _So do they got these little flashlight fingers that uh?’_

Lance glances at Allura’s hands, the tablet she’s typing into glowing with some kind of alien technology/magic that is apparently real.

_‘Do they got big metal teeth that come out and sorta?’_

Officer Coran’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, offering an indulgent look to ‘Pidge’ who was apparently the one who found him and is currently helping to setup the scanner.

_‘Well what do they look like then?’_

Lance shifts, earning a questioning look from Keith and his stupidly nice mullet.

Lance remembers Charlie Sheen’s character’s deep look, eyes nearly haunted, nearly scared, but not quite there.

_‘Like you. Like me. Like anyone.’_

Lance still can’t believe that they found him in the _discount aisle._

XxX

There was something a little strange about Lance McClain.

Keith at first figured that it was because of the fact that he’d been in stasis for who knows how long. But Keith thought that maybe he had the inkling of a hunch for both of those observations.

Lance dressed like he belonged in some film student’s documentary about ages of the past. When he first sat down beside him and Hunk he’d taken a moment to stare at their clothes. At first Keith thought maybe it was just a snob thing, the same thing that kids would do to him back in his old schools. But then he’d looked down at himself, feet shifting awkwardly as he tugged at his jacket in what seemed like a self-conscious motion.

Keith was familiar enough with the motion to hazard a guess at his thoughts.

‘Do I fit in?’

If Lance McClain were truly someone who cared about fitting in, about being in-style- one thing he wouldn’t have, is a mullet.

Keith was well aware that his haircut was a relic of time in and of itself. But his dad had liked how it framed his face, told Keith it made him look ‘cool’.

Cool. But not modern.

Modern was Shiro’s closely shaven style, sleek and sophisticated. It made you look professional, the kind of guy you’d entrust a pension too.

It occurred to Keith that maybe Lance was just one of those ‘alternative’ kids. But based on the looks the other boy had given them, he might be thinking the same thing about them too.

But Keith does know one thing.

Lance McClain had been abducted from Earth- not by the Galra, but by _someone_.

They had no idea of knowing how long Lance had been inside that box or if they would even be able to find the people that put him there in the first place.

Lance began fiddling with a watch on his wrist. (Keith didn't think there were companies that even manufactured those anymore.)

Lance McClain had been abducted from Earth.

They have no idea how long it had been for him.

Lance’s watch is red, with a cartoon design of some anthropomorphic animal that Keith doesn’t recognize.

Keith is pretty sure that Lance McClain has been inside that box for a _long, long time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created[twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> extra detail: the movie lance wanted to watch was happy gilmore and the one he ended up watching was the arrival  
> XxX  
> next chap: keith brings his observations to the team who come to a decision, which gets thrown off when the blue lion suddenly gains an affection for lance


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith brings his observations to the team who come to a decision, which gets thrown off when the blue lion suddenly gains an affection for lance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy happy late new year!!

Shiro had felt the trickle of concern continue to flow through him as he watched how desperately awkward Lance was.

He was young, probably high school age given how he’d flocked to Hunk and Keith’s side in the same way most teenage boys do when they gather into packs. His disposition was cautious, borderline hesitant with how he sat so tensely between them. His thighs were pressed together, hands clenched on his knees as his gaze made its way around the room, occasionally meeting Shiro’s.

He wasn’t so much scared as he was...confused.

Shiro had worried how the other boy might react at being told that they were no longer on Earth. Shiro knows that he wouldn’t have taken it smoothly if told the same (in fact he _hadn’t_ taken it smoothly).

So he feels a stronger inclination to see how Lance was doing because- this _wasn’t_ something that was supposed to happen to someone like him.

Shiro, on the other hand, had been prepared. The Garrison had their speech ready for if their three man crew was thrown out of orbit, or blew up when entering/leaving the atmosphere, or whatever unpredictable catastrophe awaited them once they left the soil.

Those were the silently acknowledge perils of the job.

It was something said in the welcoming speech to Pidge, Keith, and Hunk when they all joined the Garrison.

Lance wasn’t like that.

At most he’d probably hear or see the reports on a news channel. Probably get an emergency alert on his phone or hear it in the halls of his school.

To be honest, Shiro had kind of been expecting Lance to cry.

High Schoolers were soft like that. He remembers how easily excited they all were whenever he would come down from the Garrison to recruit counselors for the new summer camps the Garrison was opening.

Had Lance been one of those high schoolers?

“Shiro, we’re ready.”

At that Shiro looked up, eyes falling on where Coran and Pidge were standing beside some hula-hoop looking technology. Presumably the ‘quick scan’ to check on Lance. Casting a short glance to the healing pods, Shiro looked over to where Lance was sitting, his eyes attentive as he watched him approach.

“Lance.” Shiro began, hand slowly stretched out for him. “We’re ready if you are.”

Lance hesitates for a moment, his eyes once again lingering on his Galra arm. Shiro resists the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“ ‘kay” Lane murmurs, sliding his sweaty palm into Shiro’s, pushing off from the bench and landing with a soft ‘thump’. Shiro holds Lance’s hand in a loosegrip, leading him forward as the other boy occasionally glanced up at him, lips pursed in question as he tugged at his denim collar.

Denim. Shiro’s grandpa had one of those that he pulled out whenever it would get slightly chilly. It had been hideous. Washed out with coffee stains at the wrist, the fur lining it’s interior had been flat and grey though Shiro could easily imagine it once being soft and white.

Lance’s was like new. The stitching was a nice amber and the cuffs were crisp and pristine, no stains visible at all.

“I like your jacket.” Shiro offers as Lance steps forward, his eyes locked curiously on the humming machine as it slowly lowered over him like he was a soda bottle in a ring toss game.

Lance’s resulting smile is blinding, eyes crinkling in happiness as he tugged at the button holes.

“Thanks! It’s Kmart!” He replies, rocking on his toes.

On instinct, Shiro returns the soft look, backing up as Coran shoos him away. He steps back to Keith and Hunk’s sides, gaze wavering as Lance shifted under the orange lights on the scanner.

...What’s a Kmart?

XxX

Keith thinks maybe he should mention it.

It might be important. Or at least a little significant, the possibility that Lance was (in reality) probably decades old or something. Shiro had been one of the Physics Professors for the senior fighter pilots so History was hardly his thing but it had also been one of the few things that Keith had _actually_ been good at in school.

Shiro wanders over to his side absently, his eyes locked on Lance as he undergoes some body scan that doesn’t require the healing pods- though Keith can’t imagine any of them being particularly willing to stick Lance back inside _another_ stasis chamber.

“How’s he been?” Shiro asks quietly.

Keith straightens up, the slump of his shoulders disappearing as he looked up at Shiro. There’s a furrow of slight concern between the other’s eyes. Keith is pretty sure that this has begun to hit a bit close to home for the other paladin.

“He’s cool I guess.” Keith shrugs. That’s a lie because Lance hasn’t said much of a goddamn thing besides look them over though Keith suspects that’s more to do with not knowing what to say.

A sigh of relief escapes Shiro.

“That’s good.” Shiro nods. “Hopefully we can make him comfortable until we can get him home.”

Keith freezes, muscles tensing before he forces himself to relax and begin nodding .

his head in agreement.

“Yeah.” He replies mechanically.

Could they get him home?

Did Lance even have a home anymore?

Keith doesn’t know.

All he knows is that watches probably stopped being manufactured a long time ago.

But Lance owns a watch.

Lance McClain owns a fucking watch and wears it like it was commonplace.

“He’s a bit strange.” Shiro says. Keith nods in agreement without really thinking about it. “But I think he might like you and Hunk.”

At that Keith raises a brow, turning to face Shiro in unvoiced question.

Liked him?

Nobody liked him. And certainly not alongside Hunk. They’d gone through three Comm Specs before Keith got kicked out and Hunk ended up on some random pilot’s roster alongside Pidge.

Shiro must spot Keith’s disbelieving look out of the corner of his eye because he turns his head and offers a reassuring smile.

“C’mon, Lance seems like a good kid.” He says, resting an encouraging hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you reached out to him.”

Keith hates it when Shiro does that ‘make friends’ bit. It usually ends with him spending an awkward half hour playing silent videogames alongside the protege of another Garrison Instructor that happened to be a friend of Shiro.

Shiro’s unwavering gaze stays on him as Keith  watches Lance confusedly stand on one leg, following Coran’s enthusiastic demonstration.

“He dresses like he belongs on the set of a silent film.” Keith manages to get out, pushing off the bench and startling Hunk who was nervously watching Lance.

“Keith.” Hunk says, frowning slightly. “That’s not nice. You barely know the guy.”

Keith tenses, tongue nearly prepped to offer an apology before stopping.

“He’s wearing a watch and denim.” Keith adds. Hunk’s furrowed brows soften slightly and Keith feels slightly thankful that the two of them still had that slight understanding from when they were in the same flight crew.

Shiro is less permissive, raising a brow at Keith.

“Well, some people like dated stuff.”

“Yeah well _‘some people’_ also aren’t stuffed into packages and put on a shelf for like a century.” Keith shoots back, scuffing his boots against the floor and letting his eyes drift to Lance’s. His shoes are seamed, like they were put together as pieces rather than being a single unit. That’s time wasting and material consuming, Keith knows that it went out of fashion sometime in the 21st century.

Knows because he did a failed group presentation on fashion sustainability in middle school.

Hunk makes a noise deep in his throat, eyes widening as he glanced between Lance and Keith. Shiro also tensed, lips pursing as he took a sharp intake of breath.

Keith thinks maybe he could’ve been a little more delicate about it.

XxX

Lance waits patiently in the center of a round scanner, the lights and technology like something out of a Spielberg movie.

Pidge watches developing images on a monitor and Lance listens as Coran, the ginger alien, inputs instructions. The other alien, Princess Allura watches him with a searching gaze that Lance hopes doesn’t mean they’re going to eat him or do weird butt probe stuff.

God does Lance hope it isn’t butt stuff.

“We’re almost done!” Coran assures, resting a light hand on Lance’s back to help him step out of the scanner.

“Awesome.” Lance replies. Which it was.

“We just need to make sure none of your organs are still defrosting!” Coran adds- quite unnecessarily in Lance’s opinion.

Allura nods from her position beside Pidge.

“Exposure to fluctuating pressures could cause any frozen internal bodies to rupture spontaneously.” She adds.

What the shit.

“What the shit.” Lance breathes out, hands instinctively curling to his chest.

“Don’t worry about it.” Pidge assures him, eyes scanning the monitors. “Scans are showing that whatever order Coran unloaded the conservation gases within the chamber allowed you to…’defrost’ safely.”

Defrost safely?

What was he? Burritos from the frozen food aisle of a Bashas’?

Lance slowly tucks a lock of stray hair behind his ear.

“Well...thanks for that man.” Lance slowly offers, turning to look at Coran. The alien beams at him, the apples of cheeks pulling up and leading Lance’s eyes to the pointed tips of his ears.

Man. He looked like one of this little figurines nerds from his school played with under the bleachers during pep rallies.

“You must be tired,” Allura observes, somehow making it sound like an offer, “would you like for us to show you to a room where you can rest as well as get you something to eat while the rest of your results process?”

As a matter of fact Lance wasn’t tired at all. There was a strange looseness to his limbs, one he only felt after spending most of the day at the gym. But he had to admit he wouldn’t mind a shower. There was a weird crustiness to his hair that he can only hope was the result of the hairspray he’d applied just before sneaking out.

“Why not?” Lance shrugs, sliding his hands into his pants pockets and feeling around for the loose sticks of gum he stashed there.

Coran grips him by his shoulders, spinning Lance and urging him in the direction of a pair of arched metal doors.

“There’s an open room right beside Keith’s!” Coran informs him as they begin passing the three other paladins. Keith perks up at the sound of his name, eyes locking onto Lance as Coran shuffles them closer.

“Yeah.” Keith agrees, striding forward as Lance settles in front of him. Lance resists the urge to tense out of instinct.

Keith’s eyes are dark and probing, hands crossed over his chest as he stared at Lance like he was trying to...make something out. Lance feels his hands clench nervously in his pockets.

Boys like Keith always tended to intimidate him. Mainly because Lance wasn’t sure what to say to them to get them to like him. Them and their dark loose shirts, brooding eyes, wallet chains that hung out of their dark and strappy jeans.

They were the kids that his mom always warned him about, the ones teachers caught smoking in the bathroom and shit. Keith’s dark and tightly fitting clothes fit right in with all that. Heck if Lance just tucked a joint behind the other boy’s ear his mom would have a a heart attack if he brought him over so they could hang out and play PaRappa the Rapper.

He’s exactly the kind of cool friend Lance always wanted to have.

“Would you mind showing him?” Coran asks, pushing Lance forward and nearly shoving him into Keith. “Hunk and I will fix him something to eat, I know I’d be grumbling like Snarvalian Weexlin if I’d been dry stored!”

The hell’s a Snarvalian Weexlin?

Keith’s head inclines slightly, eyes still locked on Lance’s before he turns and begins striding towards the door. Without thinking, Lance scrambles after him.

XxX

There’s a strange way about Shiro and the way he’s been acting since they found Lance. Hunk’s pretty sure everyone’s noticed. Mainly because Shiro hadn’t exactly been his usual composed self when he’d interrogated the owner of that Earth-store.

Hunk had seen in it the clenched fingers of his Galra arm and tensed muscles of his jaw when he’d leaned against the counter.

But still there was something to be said about how the whole thing was unfolding for Shiro.

They’d all noticed-both were abducted by aliens. Both had been taken from their homes. Both had lost large increments of time between then and now.

Keith had pointed out several alarming things- things that Hunk hadn’t noticed and which didn’t bode well the more he thought on it.

And things didn’t usually turn out well for Hunk when he let himself think too deeply about things.

“Allura, Coran.” Shiro begins, eyes flickering to the door where Keith led Lance away.

Both Alteans turn to face them, gazes curious. Pidge pops up from behind the monitor, head tilted in question. Shiro takes a slow breath and Hunk nervously fiddles with his fingers as he begins recalling Keith’s words.

“I think we may have another problem.”

XxX

Keith is a fast walker.

“You’re a fast walker.” Lance comments, half jogging beside the other boy as he led him down a long corridor. Keith’s face gives no outward reaction. Lance feels his face crumble slightly before bouncing back and moving until his elbow barely brushed Keith’s.

“There’s this boy from my highschool-” Lance begins, speeding up as Keith turns sharply at one of the corners. “His name’s Neil, right. So he’s like this really fast guy and is like on the track team and stuff.”

Keith offers him a slight side eye and Lance takes that as a cue to continue.

“But he also like was on the swim team until Coach Bell saw him out on the field one day and was all like ‘try out for track!’ and Neil was like ‘wahhh??’ but his friends were like ‘do it!!’ and he did it and now he’s like going to the State meet and stuff.”

Keith stops quickly, Lance passing him before he back tracks. Keith is staring at him with furrowed brows, eyes filled with something that could be annoyance.

“What was the point of that story?” Keith asks, face set into a frown as he steadily raised his palm to a nearby scanner.

A door that Lance hadn’t seen suddenly opens opens, startling him as Keith continues to eyeball him.

“Well…” Lance begins. If he’d been talking with someone from his school they’d know who Neil Ssor was so he wouldn’t have to draw the lines of the comparison he’d been trying to make. Fast guy, Fast walker. It seemed pretty obvious to Lance and probably everyone else he went to school with.

“You’re like...fast and stuff,” Lance offers. “And so is Neil,” He continues awkwardly as Keith continues staring at him uncomprehendingly. “So like… did you do track in your school or...something?”

At that Keith raises a brow, something flashing in his expression.

“No.” Keith replies, turning into what’s apparently Lance’s room. Lance follows him.

“I went to a boarding school. We didn’t really do sports there.”

At that Lance’s eyes widened. A boarder? Neat, Lance had never met someone who went to a boarding school before.

Smile growing, Lance weaved around Keith as he turned to look at the other.

“That’s cool!” Lance insists, partially happy to just have something to talk about. “What was that like?”

Keith goes back to staring at him, eyes flickering over Lance. His gaze roams him in the span of a second before settling back on his face with something that looks like consideration.

“Short lived.” He finally replies. “I got kicked out.”

At that Lance freezes, expression falling as Keith smoothly steps around him.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on your left.” Keith says as he begins making his way out. “Kitchen is back the way we came, turn right on the nearest corridor.”

The door slides closed as he leaves and Lance doesn’t turn around in time to see the expression on the other boy.

Shit.

Well there went his chances of getting a new homie.

XxX

Lance was chatty.

That was something Keith had suspected the other boy was- based on how uncomfortable he’d been with the silence that fell between him, Keith, and Hunk when they’d been waiting. But the thing was, people didn't typically try to ‘chat up’ Keith Kogane. They’d try for all of a minute but upon seeing his lack of reciprocation and blunt questions would scamper away, serving as a pseudo warning for anyone that was watching.

There may as well been a sign over Keith’s head that said ‘Do Not Interact’.

But Lance seemed undeterred by Keith’s silence, filling the emptiness between them with his own voice, babbling on about his school and classmate that Keith somehow reminded him of. Still, that seemed to have been something Lance could latch onto for them to connect with.

He was a teenager. Lance was a teenager. Teenagers went to school and had teen school experiences.

It really was unfortunate for Lance that no one on team Voltron had been to an actual school since they joined the Garrison.

And Keith had no fond memories of the actual schools he’d attended. All of them being expensive, private schools that took in people like him as some show of community service, only to kick him to the curb the second his “discipline” issue popped it’s head up.

So no. Keith can’t really imagine Lance being all that interested in listening to Keith list all the schools he’d been forced out of or expelled from.

Without really thinking of it, Keith’s feet lead him to the kitchen. Hunk and Coran had said something about making Lance something to eat and Keith is pretty sure that the other boy would be able to find his way there.

The kitchen is empty when he gets there, just a cleared working surface with some bowls laid out for goo dispensing.

Keith sits down at one of the island stools, tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for the others to arrive. He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the telltale footsteps of the other paladins approaching, the distant sound of hushed arguing slowly growing louder.

It’s Shiro’s strained voice that sounds on the edge of biting that has Keith straightening up in attention.

Allura comes through the doorway first, Coran hot on her heels with something that looks like concern on his expression. Her weary eyes land on Keith and he resists the urge to tense at the sudden attention.

“Keith.” She breathes as Shiro and a frowning Pidge follow quickly behind. Hunk slowly trails in last, expression anxious.

Keith steps off the stool.

“Keith.” Pidge says stepping forward, eyes serious as they clutched a data pad tightly to their chest. “Did you say anything to Lance, anything about where you’re from, the Garrison, anything like that?”

Keith frowns.

“No.” He replies. “He tried making conversation, asked me what school I went to but I told him I got kicked out.”

Strangely enough Pidge bristles at that.

“So you didn’t tell him that you thought he was from a completely different era?!” They ask, eye shining fiercely with a strange anger, one that Keith was pretty sure wasn’t even directed at him.

“Pidge!” Hunk hisses through his teeth, eyes glancing towards the open doorway like Lance might suddenly appear.

“No Hunk!” Pidge says, whipping around, glasses almost flying off their face. “I looked at the dating information from the gasses within that containment unit! Scans say those are decades, maybe even centuries old!”

“Number five, please.” Coran says, hands raised and trying to pacify the Green Paladin. “Gas dating is never exact, it could be an entire decafeeb off at best.”

“Off or not we have to tell Lance.” Pidge says, eyes shining brightly in defiance. At that Allura steps in, shoulders tensed as she stepped up behind Coran.

“And then what?” She asks, blue eyes meeting Pidge’s angry gaze. “Allow him to feel the crushing anguish of knowing his home and family are long gone?”

At that Coran falters, a quick flash of emotion passing over his expression before disappearing completely and he turns to try and placate Allura.

Keith even feels a sudden surge of discomfort settle into his stomach.

Of course the two Alteans would be able to see the possibly damaging side effects of letting Lance know that...that… that he’s been in that box for a long time.

“Allura,” Shiro begins, stepping up beside Pidge. “Believe me we know how you and Coran must feel about this, but we can’t just _not_ tell Lance the truth- he’d be able to figure it out from mannerisms and our lack of what must be common knowledge to him.”

“Yeah I’m with Shiro on this one.” Hunk pipes up, sliding to stand beside Keith. “I don’t know how I’d feel about lying to someone I just met.”

“We would not be deceiving him out of malice.” Allura replies, gaze stubborn as her hands clenched in front of her. “It would just be until he has healed more. He has been locked away for so long we cannot possibly do this to him.” She says, gaze wavering slightly. “Not so soon after he has awoken.”

Try as she might Keith could still hear the slight break in her voice. He can see the shivering tension of her shoulders and the slightly downcast gaze of Coran.

For a moment Keith feels sorry, honestly and truly sorry for how little he noticed that they were hurting.

“Allura, Coran.” Pidge begins, fiery anger having simmered down to a small boil. “If it were me I’d want to know. Even if it hurt I’d want to know.” Pidge says it with such earnest, such clear and determined decision that Keith can easily imagine what they might’ve been when Kerberos happened.

Keith had jumped to instant denial, he’d been so fervent in his belief it nearly crossed the line into delusional. But not Pidge, they needed it straightforward and to the point. The Garrison’s half assed excuse wouldn’t cut it for someone who needed the undeniable truth.

Shiro shuffles at the Green Paladin’s side, eyes swirling with mixed emotions.

“When I try to remember what happened while I was with the Galra.” Shiro continues quietly, jaw tensed as he absently rubbed at his prosthetic. “Everything just comes up blank.”

The Black Paladin's eyes flutter closed, forehead creasing in concentration. Keith feels his chest tighten slightly at the sight.

“I would give almost anything to know what happened to me.” Shiro breathes, fingers clenched into a fist under his cheek. Shiro’s eyes slide open and Keith can practically see Shiro’s mind weighing out what he’s about to say next.

“But Lance is under different circumstances.”

Pidge’s head snaps up, gaze locking onto Shiro.

“He didn’t sign up for an outer space exploration. He wasn’t put into cryogenic sleep in the middle of a war.”

Pidge’s mouth begins opening and closing in unvoiced disbelief.

“Lance has been through a lot. Let’s not put him through more. Not unless we absolutely have to.”

Pidge’s jaw clicks shut. Keith can see their lip trembling, fighting between disregarding Shiro’s words and marching straight down to Lance’s room.

The tension in Allura has lessened, their eyes slightly relieved. Coran stays still, his brows furrowed in concern as he gazed between Allura and a silently miffed Pidge.

Hunk is silent beside Keith, his eyes flitting around the room, lightly distressed. Keith can recall from experience that Hunk is an awful liar.

Keith lets the strung up tension of his shoulders relax. His nails which were digging into the palm of his gloves ease their digging and for a moment Keith feels like they might all be on the same page.

Then one of the Lions begins to roar.

XxX

Lance thinks that Keith hadn’t _exactly_ been the clearest when he told Lance where the bathroom was.

_‘Down the hall on your left.’_

Down the hall on your left until what?

At the very end of the hall was a long winding staircase. At some point when Lance glanced over the edge the lights just stopped lighting the way. It reminded him vaguely of that scene in Star Wars when Luke falls through a shaft into darkness.

Slowly, Lance climbs down the stairs, the lights in the walls flickering to life as he passed them. Normally Lance would say this felt like the beginning of a horror movie- some teen, too hot for their own good, wandering into places and getting into situations they shouldn’t.

This is how Drew Barrymore died in that movie that came out last year.

Lance was the Drew Barrymore of space.

Strangely he didn’t get that eerie feeling that creeped up the back of his head when he got scared. Lance’s feet led him to the bottom of the staircase before beginning to walk forward. The lights on the wall filled the hallway with a nice blue tinted light but the entire floor was so silent all Lance could hear was the echoing sound of his own footsteps. If he psyched himself up enough, Lance could almost believe that they were the footsteps of someone else.

There’s an opening to a large room up ahead. Lance can see the lights bleeding into the hallway. There’s no hand touchpad needed unlike the other doors Lance had passed in the hall before arriving to the stairwell. Lance creeps up closer to the opening, his hand running along the wall as he approaches.

Something like anticipation bubbles low in his gut, excitement singing in his chest.

He’s happy.

He’s really _really happy._

Because he feels like he’s found something- something that he didn’t know he’d been missing.

Lance turns into the room, an undeniable pull in his stomach urging him forward.

Blue.

All Lance can see is blue. Blue lights, blue metal- all enclosing a gorgeous Blue Metal Cat.

 _No_ , his mind mentally corrects.

A Lion.

Lance’s feet lead him forward without him noticing, the hand that had been dragging along the wall now outstretched and reaching for the brilliant dome of light enclosing the Lion.

 _His_ Lion.

A tingle races through his brain when his fingertips brush the barrier, separating them. He can feel it, rushes of warmth flooding his system as he lays his palm firmer on the barrier. Absently he taps lightly on the wall with his finger.

He wasn’t expecting it to completely dissolve.

It disintegrates under his hand. It must’ve been like a dam because Lance is immediately pelted with feelings.

Feelings that aren’t his own.

If he’d had a clearer mind and a moment to think he’d almost say that it felt like two sets of emotion. One startled and surprised. While the other was overjoyed, roaring in his ears, familiar, old. It felt like-

“Home.” Lance murmurs, lips curling up in a small smile.

A large mechanical head began lowering to his feet, jaw clicking open in welcome. Distantly, Lance could hear sounds behind him, people almost. Footsteps.

Idly he wonders if they felt as creeped out going down the stairs as he did.

Bright yellow eyes stare down at him from above.

They’re familiar. They know Lance.

Like they were meant for one another.

A presence stops behind Lance, their breathing quick and harsh as they slow to stand alongside him.

Without looking, Lance immediately somehow knows it’s Princess Allura.

She must’ve been the one that was startled earlier.

Blue’s eyes twinkle brighter.

 _No_. Lance thinks, a realization making its way through his mind.

_Not just me._

_Us._

The edge of Allura’s emotions- surprise, concern, but mainly uncertainty  grow brighter.

_Both of Us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo  
> next chap: blue has revealed that lance is a paladin, alongside allura. but the team has already come to a decision regarding his situation. also keith finds out he is apparently the new friend of lance mcclain
> 
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created[twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blue has revealed that lance is a paladin, alongside allura. but the team has already come to a decision regarding his situation. also keith finds out he is apparently the new friend of lance mcclain

Keith always thought that maybe he had a soft spot for the Blue Lion. He’d even go so far as to say maybe Blue thought the same of him.

Maybe that’s why he’d been the slightest bit hurt when it turned out that Blue hadn’t chosen him as her Paladin. Despite him being the one to find her, being the one who was listening deep enough to hear her from deep in the sands of the desert.

She’d been the one to ferry them to Arus, ignoring their panicked screams as a vacantly occupied seat drove them through a wormhole and into a new galaxy, a new planet, a new life.

Sure, he’d been maybe more than a little bit jealous when she lowered her head for Allura- allowing her to step inside, to sit, to fly.

But Keith learned. No matter how much he may have wanted Blue at first, she wasn’t meant for him. She couldn’t match his intensity, not like Red could. Blue was softer, freer, she asked for trust before you even knew if you could offer it.

That’s not something Keith could’ve given.

But when Keith heard her roar, loud and bursting- he was, alongside Allura, one of the first to move.

As Allura ran, loose hairs escaping her bun as she leapt over one of the railings to free fall straight down to where the hangers were, Keith couldn’t help but curse himself for not having his armor and jetpack when he needed it.

Gritting his teeth, Keith raced down the stairs, skipping steps as he tried to keep pace with the Altean Princess. Without even looking he could almost feel her sudden desperation, knows he’d be the exact same way if it had been Red.

Shiro was right on his heels, Pidge and Hunk following closely behind when they finally reached bottom. Keith spots a distressed patch of ground where Allura must've landed and sees the white flash of her flight suit turning a corner.

Blue’s hanger is only a small walk away from Red’s and even though they were close, Keith doesn’t think he’d ever stepped foot inside of it.

Allura is frozen in the doorway when they finally arrive, Shiro slowing to a stop beside her as Keith tried to step closer, to figure out what’s wrong, to find out what made Blue react so intensely.

It’s only when Keith takes a cautious step around them that he spots Lance.

The tail of his jacket is floating slightly, puffing up around his hips as the particle barrier surrounding Blue slowly disintegrated.

_Oh._

Blue’s head begin’s lowering to him and Keith hears Allura take a sharp intake of breath.

_Oh shit._

XxX

When Lance felt someone lay a firm hand on his shoulder, his immediate thought was that he was in trouble.

His hands fall limply to his side, the sparkling lightness in his chest dropping away as he turned to face the wide-eyed Altean Princess standing beside him.

“You-” She began breathlessly, eyes disbelieving as she moved her hand from his shoulder it’s grip nearing on painful. Lance resists flinching, instead turning to face her fully as the reality of the situation comes crashing down on him.

“I-I wasn’t snooping!” Lance insists, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as her hand trailed up his neck and began cradling his cheek, gaze probing.

“You’re a Paladin.” She stated, eyes distant like she hadn’t even registered him speaking.

Shiro comes up to her side, tensed expression relaxing slightly when he reaches them.

“Allura-” He begins.

“You’re a Paladin for the Blue Lion.” She continues.

Lance feels the nervous bubbling of his stomach begin to settle.

 _Paladin_.

Lance can hear the others beginning to come closer, their footsteps becoming louder as the approached.

_Why does that sound so right?_

XxX

Lance doesn’t think anyone at the table looks anywhere near as nervous as he feels.

Allura hasn’t pulled her eyes off him since they left the hanger, heading to the dining room at the jumpy insistence of Hunk.

The other boy offers him a concerned glance as he slides him a plate piled high with a scentless green slime.

Keith is practically burning a hole into the side of his head as Shiro and Pidge alternate between glancing uneasily at him and Allura.

The only one functioning without any sense of the awkwardness in the room is Coran.  
He’s standing at Allura’s side, smiling widely as he began making subtle hand gestures at Lance to eat.

Blindly, Lance feels around the table for the wrapped utensils, searching for the dip on the spoon with his thumb. Just as he wraps his fingers around the handle, Keith finally breaks the tense silence.

“What did you mean when you said he was a Paladin?”

Lance freezes, loose fingers nearly dropping the utensil into the goo. Chancing a glance up, he spots Keith staring intensely at Allura, back tensed against his chair as he clenched his fists on the table.

Lance sincerely hopes that those weren’t going to be meant for him anytime soon.

Allura’s gaze finally drifts away from him, instead settling on the center of the table. Her hands are tucked under her chin, elbows resting on the table and Lance has tried to sneak into his house past curfew enough times to recognize that pose.

Lance begins stirring his spoon into the goo, hoping to look like an innocent bystander rather than a possible target to the tensed head honcho.

“The Blue Lion has accepted him as her Paladin.” She begins quietly, white brows furrowing.

Lance still isn’t quite sure what that means. Everyone was throwing around words like ‘Paladin’ and ‘Voltron’ and ‘Blue’ ever since they found him down in that room. But Lance likes to think he’d been playing it pretty smooth, nodding in agreement whenever one of them said something.

It wasn’t any different from when they he did group presentations in his Debate class.

Lance nods in agreement as Allura turns her head back to him.

“But I thought _you_ were the Blue Paladin.” Pidge says, sitting up in their seat as they also turned their gaze to Lance.

Lance nods again, adding in a sincere shrug.

“I did as well.” Allura continues, eyes pensive as she tapped her fingers against the table. “But the Blue Lion has decided to accept Lance as well. As far as we know- we are _both_ the Blue Paladin.”

Lance nods eagerly as the rest of the table turn to look at him, stopping only to raise a spoon full of goo to his mouth.

To his delight it tastes almost identical to butterscotch snack packs.

XxX

Hunk sits silently through dinner, stuffing a spoon of goo into his mouth anytime someone turned their gaze to him.

Lance at least looks like he’s enjoying himself, licking his spoon clean with clear enthusiasm. He seems like the first among them to genuinely enjoy the goo with gusto. His happiness almost makes up for the uncomfortable swirling in Hunk’s gut.

Because Hunk really wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t think he could lie right to the face of a complete stranger. And Lance seemed so nice too, quietly eager and a bit confused but also really, really nice.

Which is why Hunk felt so awkward around him, not really knowing what to do with himself whenever the other teen would turn to look at him.

Even as Lance finished and was left to sit quietly in his spot, he looked to Hunk with a searching gaze like he was waiting or even expecting Hunk to say something.

And dang it Hunk couldn’t in good conscience just leave someone hanging like that, especially not when Lance began wilting, smile straining as he began to look away.

Looking away like Hunk had rejected him.

“H-How do you like your room?” Hunk asks quietly, trying not to shift as Lance turned back to face him, blue eyes brightening.

“I like it!” Lance exclaims, bouncing slightly in his chair, pushing forward into the table in his eagerness. “It’s bigger than my room back home!”

Hunk hopes that the smile on his face doesn’t seem as fake as it feels when Lance starts talking about ‘home’.

“I mean when I was a Sophomore, the school band went to California for a competition and we stayed in a Best Western, right?-”

Hunk felt the tense smile on his face slowly relax as Lance began launching into an excited spiel.

“-We were drawing straws and I ended up having to share a room with Clark Masters and Steven Marsh, which was totally gross by the way, because Steven Marsh totally used my toothbrush, like yuck!-”

Lance’s face cringed into a look of disgust, shivering as if recalling an awful memory. Hunk couldn’t stifle the snort of amusement that snuck out of him. Lance must’ve heard because he immediately perked up, eyes shining in glee and looking at Hunk with a widening smile.

Hunk wouldn’t stop the smile that began forming on his own face even if he could.

XxX

Shiro watches Hunk and Lance’s quiet conversation through the rest of dinner out of the corner of his eye.

It nearly distracts him from the tensed concern banketing the other side of the table.

Pidge’s eyes spoke even when they didn’t. Their questioning gaze drifting back and forth so quickly between a silent Allura and an oblivious Lance that Shiro was surprised they didn't give themselves whiplash.

_‘Another Blue Paladin?’_

Shiro could imagine them asking themselves.

_‘How?’_

_‘Isn’t Allura the only Blue Paladin in the Universe?’_

_‘How could there be more than one Paladin at a time?’_

Pidge’s eyes suddenly flicker to him, gaze drifting down and to their own plate.

Keith is sitting with his plate untouched, narrowed gaze on the table like he was lost in thought.

It’s only until Lance and Hunk begin rising at the other side of the table that he looks up.

“Lance and I are going to turn in.” Hunk starts, smile becoming the slightest bit uneasy when it turned to them.

“Hunk’s gunna show me where the shower is and we’re gunna have a sleepover in my room!” Lance exclaims, fingers running through his long hair.

Hunk nods shyly, smile growing as Lance offered the rest of the table a wave before turning and offering his elbow to the Yellow Paladin.

Shiro gives a quiet murmur of ‘goodnight’ and watches them leave with a smile that fades as they turn a corner.

As soon as he turns his gaze back on the others he can see them all itching to speak, lips curled to ask questions they couldn’t while Lance was in the room.

“My father once told me-” Allura began, shoulders tensed as she stared after the empty doorway. “That the Lions must always have a Paladin.”

“So Lance…” Pidge resumed, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Lance would’ve been the Blue Paladin during his time.” Keith completes, hands crossed over his chest.

Allura nodded sharply.

“The Blue Lion appears to have chosen Lance long before she chose me.”

“Well you were still in cryogenic sleep when Lance was chosen- and the rest of us-” Pidge says, gesturing to themselves, Keith, and Shiro. “We weren’t even born yet!”

“If that’s the case, that Lance was Blue’s chosen Paladin when he was back on Earth...why didn’t Voltron activate earlier?” Shiro asks, Galra arm clenching without warning.

“It is possible there were no suitable Paladins for the other Lions awake during young Lance’s time.” Coran offers, stepping forward and beginning to gather their plates onto a floating tray Shiro hadn’t noticed before.

At that Pidge snaps to attention. Allura’s head also rises, brows suddenly beginning to furrow in thought.

“What do you mean there weren’t other suitable Paladins at the time?” Pidge asks, head tilted in question.

“Well it is possible that the Green Paladin of Lance’s time could’ve been decafeebs old while Lance was as springy as Zenturian Marblade!” Coran explains, fingers brushing through his mustache like he always did when he was making a point. “The Red Paladin could have been a newborn and the Black Paladin may as well have been a small Jeinum sapling!”

“So we were the first time all of Voltron’s Paladins lined up perfectly?” Pidge asks, intrigue leaking into their voice.

Shiro watched as Keith began leaning forward, interest sparking in his eyes

“That would be one way you could put it!” Coran affirmed before his eyes drifted back to Allura.

“You are still the Blue Paladin, Allura.” He assured, gathering the tray into his hands as he offered the Princess an eye-crinkling smile. “It is just that young Lance is as well.”

Allura nodded slowly, eyes gaining clarity as she began to rise from her chair.

“Yes.” She breathes. “We are _both_ the Blue Paladin.”

Suddenly her eyes sharpen and she turns to look at Shiro. Without even noticing, Shiro straightens in his seat, returning the look.

“Shiro.” Allura begins, turning her body to face him. “Lance is of your planet, and I know you always try to think about what is best for the other Paladins-”

Shiro’s brows begin to furrow, tugging his forehead into a crease.

“But Blue has named Lance a Paladin, a Paladin to _our_ Lion.” She continued. Allura takes a steadying breath. “So I ask that you allow me to take charge in his training.”

Shiro feels his brows raise.

Allura raises a stubborn chin.

“Each Lion is unique to their own Paladin, I believe I can help Lance with the experience I’ve gained from flying the Blue Lion.”

“Yeahhh, uhm no offense Allura but you’re not exactly...a forgiving teacher.” Pidge pipes up.

Allura’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean? Who would be more suited to teach the Blue Paladin than another Blue Paladin?”

“Allura remember when Shiro put in that rule about individual training outside of team training?” Keith asks, standing. “That’s because none of were able to keep up with your Altean regimen.”

Allura continued to frown in uncomprehension.

“But then how will Lance learn of his duties as a Paladin?”

“Allura,” Shiro began, “Lance is on a different base level than the rest of us, he’ll be starting from the beginning- he’ll need to be with someone he’s grown comfortable with.”

Allura’s forehead slowly smoothes, expression reluctantly contemplative.

“I...suppose you are correct.” She admits, circling around the table to meet him. “Who did you have in mind.”

At that Shiro feels a small smile begin to tug at his lips.

“Keith.”

XxX

“What?” Keith asks, feeling that the incredulity in his voice is pretty justified.

Shiro spares him a long glance before opening his mouth to respond.

“Why?” Keith continues, cutting him of. Shiro’s mouth clicks shut before shooting him a slight look that has Keith holding back the  huff of breath he was about to release.

“Keith,” Shiro begins, “you’re one of the only ones on the team that Lance seems comfortable with- he seems to really like you, couldn’t you at least try?”

Keith presses his tongue against the back of his teeth in forced thought.

“Why can’t you do it?” He can’t help but ask because Shiro is...Shiro. Everyone loved Shiro, Keith can’t recall there ever being someone in the Garrison that didn’t.

Shiro hesitates, mouth twitching slightly as he glanced down.

“Lance...seems a bit put off by…”

Shiro glances down at his Galra arm and Keith’s mouth clicks shut.

“I don’t want to make things harder for him, so being around someone he likes can only help.”

Keith purses his lips. It’s not like Lance wasn’t nice or anything like that. He seemed like an okay guy, a bit of a motormouth though Keith wasn’t exactly the saint of friendship himself, somehow managing to mess them up without really noticing.

“What about Hunk? What about Pidge?” He still can’t help but ask, memories of Shiro’s scripted ‘hangouts’ with other cadets and that one time he bribed a few to hang out with him when he to Plaht City surfacing. “The two of them are literally having a sleepover or something in Lance’s room right now.”

Shiro’s brows furrowed slightly, an almost tired expression washing over him.

“Pidge has made their position on how the situation with Lance should be handled clear.” Shiro begins.

“He doesn’t think I could hold myself back from _telling_ him.” Pidge interrupts, pushing away from the table. Their eyes are still simmering, partly in anger though Keith thinks that might be directed at something else. “And he’s right.” Pidge shrugs.

Shiro nods in agreement, across the table from them.

“As for Hunk, being able to be Lance’s friend outside of Paladin work and also withhold the truth would be asking too much from him.” Shiro answers lowly and Keith can’t help but know that to be the truth too.

Hunk hanging out with Lance, laughing and joking together was one thing. But helping him train for Paladin work and trying to pretend like Lance would be able to… look forward to the payoff of being able to see his family would be too much for him.

But not for Keith.

Because him and Lance were in the same boat on this one.

Neither of them had anything waiting for them back on Earth.

Only difference was- Keith actually knew that.

“Are we telling him?” Keith asks.

He doesn’t need to look around to see the suddenly tensed expressions of everyone in the room.

“He’s a Paladin now. Are we telling him.” This time he doesn’t say it like a question.

Allura’s throat is tense, Keith can see her swallowing before she offers an answer.

“Not yet.” Allura murmurs. “Just until- until he may handle it better.”

She says it with the slightest fluctuation of ache- he can hear what she isn’t saying.

_‘Just as I would have preferred.’_

Shouldn’t Lance be the one to decide that? Keith can’t help but think.

Obviously he doesn’t say that out loud.

“Keith.” Shiro says, brows furrowing, the edge of concern tickling at his eyes. “I know this isn’t ideal- none of us were expecting this to happen.”

Ain’t that the truth.

“We _will_ tell Lance.” Shiro assures. “But...when we do- I want him to know that we’ll be there for him. That he’s not in this by himself.”

And what the fuck’s Keith supposed to say to that that won’t make him sound like an asshole?

“Okay.” He finally decides on, the fingers of weariness creeping onto him maybe from all the moral reasoning he’s been forced to go through in one day or maybe it’s just because he doesn’t want to put up a fight about having to train someone who is basically the human equivalent of a lost puppy.

Either way Shiro’s eyes are brightening, expression thankful. Pidge huffs a bit, turning away and letting out a breath of annoyance behind Shiro’s back. Allura’s expression is happy though Keith knows it’s probably got more to do with the fact that he’s going to be the one training her brother/paladin in arms.

As soon as can, Keith turns on his heel and begins marching back to his room. He begins shedding his jacket as he approaches, passing Lance’s door just as he slips it off.

Someone giggles from behind the closed door. Keith nearly stops, thinks about maybe knocking and peeking in, at least just to tell Lance that the two of them would be training together.

Another muffled giggle passes through the door.

Keith keeps walking.

Blue chose him.

Blue chose Lance before any of the Lions chose them.

Keith kinda hopes he doesn’t somehow mess this up too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap: keith begins training lance, pidge and hunk attempt to teach lance how use altean/ "modern" tech, and lance hasn't even gotten his license yet what do you mean 'have you ever flown before?'
> 
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith begins training lance, pidge and hunk attempt to teach lance how use altean/ "modern" tech, and lance hasn't even gotten his license yet what do you mean 'have you ever flown before?'

Lance liked Hunk.

Hunk didn’t get annoyed at Lance for talking so much _and_ he helped Lance try to wash out his mom’s hairspray.

“Do you it was expired or something?” Lance asks miserably, wet bangs clinging to his cheeks while Hunk tried pulling his brother’s combs through his hair.

“I don’t really know.” Hunk began hesitantly, thick fingers delicately lifting a clumped strand of Lance’s hair. “It looks like there’s some kind of...resin binding it together.”

Lance lets out slow breath, fingers gripping the sink in front of him.

“Can you fix it?” He can’t help but ask, voice nearly entering the territory of a whine. “You said you went to some science school right?”

“Engineering.” Hunk corrected. “All my courses were Engineering based and no, this is more of a….not my specialty.”

Hunk tries tugging the comb through the mass as he rests a heavy hand on Lance’s head. His palm is large and calloused, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. Its soft warmth sends a strange tingle down Lance’s spine, one that makes him pliant under his hands. Hunk’s reflection in the mirror shows his brows furrowed in concerned concentration as he slowly separated thinner clumps of hair from one another.

It looked too much like the face his kindergarten teacher made when she was trying to get rid of that wad of gum someone put in Abby Willis’s hair. Abby came to school the next day sheared like a sheep so Lance immediately knows what’s going to come out of Hunk’s mouth before he even parts his lips to say it.

“ ‘m gunna have to cut it?” He can’t help but break out, Hunk’s brown eyes meet his in the mirror. Hunk hesitates, shoulders shrinking back before he slowly nods.

Predictably, Lance feels his lower lip begin to tremble.

_This was like so not fair._

XxX

By morning Lance’s hands were self-consciously reaching up to fiddle with his trimmed locks.

Prom was in a few months and now Lance needed a new strategy.

“It doesn’t look that bad.” Hunk offers, walking slowly alongside him, eyes trying to reassure him as they began turning into the kitchen.

“Doesn’t it?” Lance can't help but ask, turning up the collar to his jacket like it could offer some protection from any scrutiny. So what if he looks like Johnny LeMare from English class?

When they walk in, Pidge and Keith are both seated at the island. Pidge is tensed, fingers punching roughly at a slab of grey alien tech in what looks like annoyance to Lance. Keith, on the other hand is steadily mixing a bowl of that snack pack stuff.

“G’mornin.” Lance greets, fingers digging into his collar as he pulled out one of the seats with his foot. Hunk offers him a soft pat on the shoulder before heading over to the food dispensers.

“Hey.” Pidge replies, voice practically a mumble and not even looking up. Keith’s eyes flicker up to him for a brief second before doing a sudden double take.

Lance swallows thickly.

Keith lowers his spoon from his mouth, eyes scanning over Lance’s face.

Lance sinks down lower in his seat.

“What happened to you?” Keith asks, brows raised in question and voice almost accusing though from meeting him Lance is pretty sure that’s just his default setting.

Pidge’s head lifts up at Keith’s question, eyes lighting in perplexity before their gaze slid over to Lance. Their eyes widened.

Lance wishes the floor would swallow him up.

“Holy-” Pidge begins, mouth falling open as they straightened in their seat. “What happened to you?”

“I just asked that.” Keith points out, his dark eyes never leaving Lance.

Hunk pops back in, two bowls resting in his arms, eyes flickering between the three of them as he borderline forced a spoon into Lance’s hands.

“There was an incident with Lance’s hairspray.” Hunk answers, gaze pointedly going to him. Lance is pretty sure that’s supposed to be some kind of cue for him, though for what he’s not sure.

“I think the can was expired.” Lance tries to glumly add in, lips pressing together as he tried reaching for the non-existent long hair. Nothing but air meets his fingers and Lance resists the urge to start crying again.

Maybe he could get extensions?

“Hairspray?” Pidge asks, one brow lifting in confusion.

They couldn’t be that expensive could they?

“It holds your hair in place and stuff.” Keith offers, eyes still lingering on Lance as he resumed eating.

He had a bit of money still saved up from when he worked in the arcade.

“I know what hairspray is!” Pidge hisses, practically biting at Keith like an irritated hamster (just like Mr. Berries, his late pet who hated Lance’s guts up until the day he died).

“We also think that maybe the long...exposure to the chemicals in the chamber might’ve also played a role.” Hunks hesitantly adds in, choosing the seat between Pidge and Lance. Lance immediately begins pushing himself closer, adjusting his seat until he and Hunk’s thighs are touching.

At the action, Hunk offers Lance a small smile.

Yet another thing Lance likes about him.

Lance returns the looks before looking around him, searching for the other human and two aliens that were also supposed to be on the ship.

 _Aliens_.

He still isn’t all that over it.

“Where’s Shiro?” He can’t help but ask, pressing his spoon against his lips.

Keith’s head perks up, gaze straying back to Lance.

Lance wonders if he does that to everyone.

“Well Shiro’s probably down in the Black Lion’s hanger and might come up to supervise you guys later.” Pidge offers, not looking at Lance as they dial away at their slab. Lance tilts head in question. “Hunk and I are gunna be working on putting some upgrades into all of our stations on the main deck so that’ll leave you and Keith to train.”

“Train?” Lance asks, frowning in confusion as he turns to face a silent Keith. Hunk is also making a vague sound of question, looking at the two.

“Shiro said Keith would be best to show you the ropes.”

Ohhh. So like employee training?

Is that what this was?

Did that mean Lance had a job again?

“Uh, I’m not supposed to work during the school year.” Lance begins, spooning some goo into his mouth. “My mom says that it’ll split my focus and my grades ‘ll go down- it’s why she and dad made me quit working at the Arcade.”

And wasn’t that a disappointment. He begged that Senior, Devin Wilson to put in a good word for him before he left for college and all of that ended up being for nothing when his mom made him quit just a few weeks before school started again.

Pidge tenses and for a second Lance thinks they’ve done something wrong.

So he scrambles to fix it.

“But my mom’s not here!” He insists, leaning forward. “So I won’t tell her if you don’t!”

Crap. First sneaking out and now lying to his parents?

Maybe all those anti-drug pamphlets his homeroom teacher would shove into everyone’s hands every morning were onto something.

Pidge doesn’t say anything, instead packing up and pushing their empty food bowl away.

“Hunk I’ll be on the main deck when you’re done.” They offer before bolting away.

Lance suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

“H-Hey Lance,” Hunk begins, resting a hand on his shoulder, “it’s not you or anything, it’s just that Pidge is...well they’re kind of in the middle of something and...”

Tensely, Lance nods.

Hunk opens and closes his mouth, forehead creased like they’re caught between saying something and saying nothing.

“They’ll be okay.” Keith offers. His eyes haven’t drifted from Lance once. “Just give them a bit to get used to some stuff.”

Lance feels his shoulders relax slightly.

Hunk hums, hand lingering on Lance as he scrapes up the last off the goo into his mouth. He seems to hesitate for a moment before laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, thumb brushing the exposed part of his skin hidden under his turtleneck.

“I’ll see ya later Lance, okay?”

Lance nods quickly, watching as Hunk scurried away in a hurry, presumably after Pidge.

The resulting silence in the room is what urges Lance to turn around.

He’s startled to see the Keith has already gotten up- pitching in close.

“You done?” Keith asks, arms folding across his chest. His warm breath hits Lance, snapping him to attention.

“Oh.” Lance glances down to his empty bowl. “Uh, yeah- what’re we doing?”

Rather than answer Keith just inclines his head in the direction of the hall. Lance hurries after him, half-jogging alongside the other’s brisk pace.

“Just so you know,” Lance begins, his hand brushing Keith’s as he takes a quick turn. “I’m a really fast learner!”

Keith gives him a quick side eyed glance before facing front again.

Lance hesitates for a second before continuing.

“Also I’m passionate and dedicated and I don’t give up easily!” He continues.

Keith’s brow raises in question this time but he doesn’t turn to look at Lance.

Lance honestly kinda expected at least a nod of consideration. Especially since that’d been his campaign slogan when he was running for student body president.

He’d run unopposed but still.

Before he knew it they were turning into another corridor, one that had doors with higher arches and light fixtures that seemed almost crystalline. It was definitely a step up from the corridor where Lance’s room was. Like the floor with all the deluxe suites in a Best Western.

Keith leads them to a large open space, one with the lights dimmed significantly. There are five pedestals in front of them, raised off the ground and lined up into a row. Four of the tubes empty. But one one of them holds-

“This is your Paladin suit.” Keith offers, turning and speaking for the first time since breakfast. “It’s the one that was worn by the original Pilot of the Blue Lion.”

They _still_ haven’t really explained to Lance what it was that he’d be doing at this new job.

That’s just bad managerial handling.

Wait did that mean that _Keith_ was his manager?

Wait was he even getting paid for this?

Despite all the very valid concerns Lance had running through his mind all he could muster out was-

“I thought that the Princess said she was the Blue Paladin?”

Well at least Lance is pretty sure she is because he’d just nodded along to her and everything at dinner.

Keith steps up to the pedestal, reaching an arm up to grab the helmet with a clear blue tinted visor covering.

“She is.” Keith answers, stepping back down before smoothly turning to face Lance. “But so are you.”

That doesn’t make sense.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Keith shrugs, lifting a hand and brushing back one of Lance’s side bangs. Lance freezes.

Without offering much of well _anything_ Keith uses two hands to push the helmet down onto Lance’s head. For a second he feels five years old again, about to go ride his bike but his Dad pushing his head into one of his older brother's helmets and it’s too big, sliding off Lance’s peanut head with a long strap that dangles near his neck like a turkey’s snood.

But this doesn’t feel quite like that.

Because for once- the helmet actually fits.

XxX

Keith is almost certain that Shiro owes him one.

Lance does another quick spin in the mirror, a wide excited smile on his face.

He’s pretty sure the team owes him one.

Lance does a sudden face, one that juts out his lower lip and makes his eyes go all squinty.

 _“Huh?”_ He says with a sudden forced deep voice.

Keith holds back another sigh of exasperation.

_“You talkin’ to me?”_

“Lance.” Keith says, hands crossed over his chest.

“Wait, wait- just one more.” Lance begs, eyes insistent in the reflection. Keith rolls his eyes but takes a step back as Lance narrows his eyes, voice lilted.

_“Hasta la vista baby.”_

“You done now?” Keith asks, brows raised as Lance spins on the balls of his feet before bouncing over to him in barely contained glee.

“Aw c’mon man!” He says, hooking an arm with Keith in a bold show of familiarity if Keith was being honest. Still he doesn’t resist, leading him to the corridor beyond the pedestals that would lead them directly to the training room and armory.

“Haven’t you ever seen The Terminator? It’s like one of my favorite movies-” Lance begins, hands raising as he began babbling on about ‘Sarah Connor’, her son ‘John Connor’, and ‘T-800’, he says it with such plain casualty like Keith is supposed to know who those people are. In fact, Lance does that pretty often, name dropping classmates and people he knows like Keith would be familiar enough with them to know who he was talking about.

It’s when they reach the armory that Lance begins to stop talking, voice fading to a quiet stunned silence as Keith brings him into a room lined wall to wall with Altean armor and weapons.

“Woah.” Lance breathes, curling in closer to Keith.

 _‘Woah’_ would definitely be one way of putting it.

Spears and swords are lined up like pool cue sticks on one wall, chained weapons with shocking tips and spiked blades are blasters of varying sizes are sealed behind glowing tables, and rolls of thick armour repair fabric take up an entire half of the room. Keith has been in here enough to know that this is just the most basic weapons available, all outfitted to be purposefully non-lethal. Blades have been dulled and blaster power adjusted to leave harsh but survivable bruises.

Lance’s eyes are wide as Keith leads them to the center table. Allura had said she’d leave the blue bayard in its original storage compartment for Lance to pick up. She and Coran had gotten into a short discussion about whether Allura herself should’ve offered it to Lance but the question of whether that would at all affect the shape his bayard would take was too high. So they’d opted to let Lance it up himself, allow his weapon to emerge organically.

Slowly Keith pushes Lance forward, hand on his lower back and leading him to the light table that a single blue bayard is resting on. Lance takes the final few steps without his assistance, eyes wide and distant as he began wrapping his fingers around the handle. If Keith were being honest, he could admit that he was more than a bit curious to see what form it would take for the other boy.

A white glow shining from Lance’s hands passes quickly before resting in his palm is- well, honestly something that Keith should’ve expected.

Lance lets out a breathy sound of delight.

“I got a gun!”

XxX

The Garrison was as cut throat as a place could get. In all of Keith’s former schools if he got into trouble it’d just be detention, or suspension if he managed to tick off the wrong person. But at the Garrison that didn’t happen. If one person in a group couldn’t follow orders, then _everyone_ went down with them.

Keith caught on pretty soon that among his classmates, he wouldn’t be getting that ‘second chance’ Shiro had given him. All those weekends running drills because of him probably had something to do with it, which is why he didn’t blame them for avoiding him and turning him into a social leper.

So spending the last couple of years in what basically amounted to social excommunication -sitting by himself at a lunch table and doing group projects on his own did nothing to prepare him for how... _desperate_ Lance seemed to want to talk to him.

“-So then Misty Dawes caught Helen Creed kissing her boyfriend at a Bath and Body Works, which is already shady enough-”

Or maybe it was just that Lance was desperate to talk to anyone, practically splitting at his seams to spill his guts about every morsel of gossip he has packed away inside him.

Lance steadies his hands as he continues babbling, eyes locked on the floating buoy targets that Keith set up for him. Their frames flicker a brilliant blue at every direct shot that Lance manages to land.

Lance takes five shots and five different buoys lights up at once.

“-So then to get back at Helen, Misty goes on a date with her younger brother, this Sophomore named Craig Dawes, and _he_ says that she blew him at the back of the movie theatre but I call bullshit because he said the same thing about-”

Lance turns to look at him, taking one steadying hand off his bayard to make some vague motions that looked like air quotes. Lance is still shooting, much slower, but still several buoys shine blue. Not one turns red- which means that even without looking, Lance is still able to hit the target close enough for it to register as a direct hit.

“How are you doing that?” Keith can’t help but ask, cutting Lance off in the middle of his story. His forehead is creased in deepening confusion and if Shiro were there he’d probably try to smooth the wrinkles away with some off-handed comment about his face sticking that way.

Lance stutters, mouth open and caught in the middle of one of the names of some teenager that was caught in a high school scandal decades ago.

Keith tenses, and thinks that maybe he should apologize, logically he knows that you’re not supposed to cut someone off while they’re speaking. But as Lance lowers the arm holding his bayard, turning to shoot a proud grin to Keith, he just doesn’t manage to get the words out.

“Welllll..” Lance drawls, using his pointer finger to begin spinning his bayard around in some strange cowboy western pose just begging for a casualty. Keith reminds himself to wear his armor the next time he trains with Lance (silently, he reminds himself that it was stupid not to bring it in the first place, even if he was only planning on going over the basics).

“I don’t mean to brag-” Lance begins.

Which clearly means he does.

“-But you are actually in the presence of the High Score holder of Virtua Cop 1 and 2!”

Keith has no idea what those are. He doesn’t even have the faintest clue to _guess_ what they are. But obviously they must be something impressive based on the proud puffed chest of the other boy. So of course Keith nods, offering a small murmur of agreement that has Lance lighting up like it’s Christmas or something.

“What about you?” Lance asks tucking his bayard in close to his side. It disappears into his ‘magnetic storage pocket’ or whatever it was Pidge called it. Lance marvels in high pitched gasping and fumbling.

“What _about_ me?” Keith can’t help but ask, brow raising in question as Lance begins waving his hands in front of his thigh like it might come to life and bite him.

“Yeah,” Lance murmurs somewhat absently, “do _you_ have any favorite video games?”

 _Fuck_.

Video games.

Is that what they were talking about?

Lance stands on one foot, hands feeling his thigh for some button or a switch probably (It took  Keith a minute to figure out how to re-summon his bayard too).

Keith knows video games, of _course_ he knows video games. They were his birthday and New Year’s presents every year from his dad and the go-to ‘how you doin’ champ’ gift from the other members of his fire squad. At one point he’s pretty sure he had 3 different copies of the same game.

But Keith is no video game aficionado (not like Pidge is) so what the _fuck’s_ he supposed to do now?

Lance manages to re-summon his bayard, the bright flash knocking him off balance and nearly toppling him back had Keith not slipped a hand under his back and help him push himself back on his feet. Lance sends him a sweet smile, one that makes his cheeks a peachy pink. His eyes are open and trusting and dammit Keith’s gotta look at that and _lie_.

“I don’t like video games.”

Lance’s face falls, mouth falling open in clear surprise.

Keith resists the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“O-Oh?” Lance says, tilting his head. “Well….like yeah cuz’ video games are like so mainstream right?”

Keith nods.

“Yeah, that’s why.”

Great. He probably sounds like a massive douchebag now.

Lance fiddles with his bayard, rocking back and forth on his heels. For once he’s silent, eyes scanning the room with a nearly frantic air around him. Even without knowing him for long, Keith can almost immediately tell he’s scrambling for something to say, something to fill the silence.

And Keith...well he doesn’t feel _bad_ but he kinda feels ‘bad’. Because for as long as he can recall (which isn’t that much) it seems like Lance has been the sole person carrying their conversations, offering Keith an in depth glimpse into his life, enough so that Keith can close his eyes and almost see Helen Creed going down on Misty Dawes’s asshole younger brother.

Which isn’t _nice._ But it’s at least a show of some degree of faith that Lance seems to have in him. And if Keith’s learned _anything_ from being on team Voltron, it’s that he has to carry his own weight in...whatever it is that he and Lance have.

“I got kicked out of my old school for stealing the car of a visiting guest speaker.”

The words leave him before he even has a chance to give it a second thought.

Lance’s head snaps back to him, eyes wide in surprise.

“ _Dude_.” He breathed, tensed shoulders slightly relaxing.

Keith nods, shifting and resisting the urge to flex his fingers and show that he’s waiting for Lance him to condemn him for it.

“Like...how old were you? How’d you do it? _Why’d_ you do it?” Lance asks, leaning in closely, words practically whispered. Keith feels like those Garrison students he’d pass in the halls and in the cafeteria after classes were over, all of them leaned in and hushed in small circles- exchanging secrets and gossips about instructors, campus patrollers, other students.

“Like 14?” Keith shrugs, slipping his jacket off his shoulders. Lance makes an almost inaudible gasp, eyes wide. “And it was just...there. He left the keys in the ignition and everything and I only did it cuz…”

...Why did he do it?

Looking back on it, not only was it stupid but there was also _no fucking way_ he would’ve gotten away with it. Plus it’s not like he’d been _discreet_ . But...they’d been talking about him behind his back when he was right _there-_ talking about how he had no potential even though he’d just out performed every other half-wit that’d tried the simulator.

He did _good_. But that still wasn’t enough.

Keith thinks back at the red-faced seething fury that his usually dismissive teacher had when the cops caught up with him and dragged him back. Remembers the immediate refusal to allow him back through the school’s doors she’d spat out at the officers who had him buckled up in their cruiser.

“-I did it cuz-”

_He wanted to stick it to them._

“-I wanted to.”

Lance stares at him with an agape jaw, eyes filled with wonder.

Keith swallows, pulling his jacket off the rest of the way and beginning to tie it around his waist, just to give his nervously fiddling hands something to do.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told Lance this first-

“Dude,” Lance whispered breathlessly, “you are officially the coolest guy I know.”

Keith startles, hands flattening against his side packs.

Lance is pushed in close, his nose almost touching Keith’s cheek. Keith stares back into blue eyes and tries not to wonder to much about why there’s a sudden soft feeling swirling in his stomach.

XxX

Lance is, as it turns out, a good student.

He’s good at listening to Keith, but he’s also really good at making shit up on the fly. A trait that Keith can happily admire.

But the thing is that Lance is...really fucking old.

It’s not something that should shock Keith, especially considering the circumstances of how he came to be Lance’s teacher- but it still manages to creep up on him every once in a while.

Lance is as fit as a fiddle, _fitter_ even. He can keep up beside Keith when they’re running drills, sprinting alongside him at an even pace. He meets Keith for every crunch and push-up that they do together. He doesn’t even tap out when Keith has him doing chin-ups.

Physically, Keith could report back to the others that Lance could keep up. His bayard handling still needed some work, but so did all of them when they first got theirs. It’s not like the Garrison was teaching their fighter pilots sword fighting, there’s a learning curve.

But the part that Lance falls short, the part that he really needs to get down-

“Have you ever flown before?”

“You mean like on a plane?”

-Is the tech.

All of the Paladins came from the Garrison, a place that is specifically _designed_ to train them for space flight. Of course Lance has the benefit of not having to deal with shit like centrifuge training, the Lions having some advanced stabilizers that negate the High-G training they endured twice a year, every year at the Garrison.

“Kinda.” Keith replies, walking alongside Lance to the bridge. They’d been focused purely on physical training for a few days, Shiro pulling him aside every night to ask on how Lance was doing, for some reason not seeming satisfied with Keith’s basic report of ‘fine’.

Lance is curious and Keith can see he wants to ask further, probe at Keith like he usually does.

When they slip onto the bridge, the first thing Keith spots is Pidge and Hunk hunched over the Blue Paladin’s battle station.

“What’s going on here?”

Pidge glances up, their eyes locking onto Keith before floating over to Lance.

“Hey Keith.” They reply, fingers tapping at the hologrammed screen. “Hey Lance.”

“We’re trying to update Lance’s station alongside ours!” Hunk exclaims, happily waving in their direction. Lance eagerly returns the motion. Keith starts over before Lance has a chance to ask if they could make a quick detour from Keith’s plans.

Lance practically bounces over, slipping off his helmet as he pours himself across his station. He mouths an unseen greeting over to Hunk who immediately returns it with a wide smile.

Keith stops a step away from where Pidge is tapping away at Lance’s station.

“...What’re you doing?” Keith asks quietly. Pidge stops, lifting their head to raise a single brow of question.

Keith can understand the confusion, he doesn’t usually try to make conversation- but he could see the curiosity brimming in _Lance’s_ eyes at what Pidge was doing and also knew that Lance wouldn’t ask Pidge about it. He had some misplaced belief that Pidge didn’t like him. After finding that out, it was the only other thing he’d told Shiro who’d furrowed his brows and shared in Keith’s own confusion.

“I’m trying to update his drone with the invisibility cloak the other stations have.”

Lance makes a soft sound of wonder.

“But the Blue Paladin station’s gone unused since Allura’s usually at the helm.” Pidge elaborates. Lance hums in interest and for the first time, Pidge glances back at him, brown eyes locked on the other. Keith can see the miniscule tension in his shoulders as he meets Pidge’s stare.

“You’re probably gunna be the first person to use this in a long time so it’ll take some getting used to.”

Lance nods slowly, eyes flickering back to the screen. Pidge doesn’t tear their gaze away and Keith knows from their shifting expression going through different emotions, hesitation, consideration, guilt- that Shiro must’ve mentioned Lance’s feelings to them.

“Do you…” Pidge begins slowly, facing back to the screen. “Do you wanna test it out?”

For a moment even Keith is surprised, Pidge usually never lets someone else take over when they’re in the middle of a project even if it is upgrades.

Then again guilt is a powerful motivator. Keith would know.

Pidge pushes the screen up, startling Lance as he stares at the holo display in front of him.

Lance is easily fascinated by the castle’s different functions but he usually has Keith operating them for him, even the elevator that takes them down to the med bay to treat their superficial wounds. So Keith isn’t surprised when Lance handles the screen with clumsy fingers, tapping at the sensitive screen multiple times and forcing it to go through several functions at a rapid speed. It startles Lance, his uncertainty showing in his expression as he tries tapping at unresponsive icons and overtapping the more sensitive ones.

For someone who has tech and its components come so easily to them, Pidge grimaces watching him- mouth opening and closing at several points like they’re about to offer advice but Lance pushes through it too quickly for anything of value to be mentioned.

“Here-” Pidge finally interrupts, tugging the screen back down to them and quickly clearing all of the messages and tabs Lance has opened with just a few easy clicks. “I’ll show you.”

Hunk leans in closer, settling up near the Green Paladin as they began a slow instruction.

“Before you start you need to be on the station’s neutral setting- from there you select one of the icons.”

“What’s that?” Lance asks, brows raised in question. Pidge tilts their head back.

“It’s the symbols on the top and the sides.”

“But some of them don’t work.” Lance notes, fingers pointed at the greyed out characters.

“Those are only active when the castle’s particle barrier has been raised.” Hunk states, pulling away from the station and standing beside Keith.

“It’s actually pretty easy.” Pidge says, tapping at one of the icons to draw up a sonar-esque map. “It’s not that different from a computer.”

At that Lance frowns slightly, pushing up from the station and straightening slightly.

“But I didn’t take any of those classes.” Lance says. “They seemed kinda lame and hard.”

Pidge freezes, stopping just as they were about to summon another map to access the castle’s cameras. Hunk also stops, brows furrowing as they glance between Lance and the frozen Green Paladin. Slowly, Pidge starts again, shaking themselves off as they glance back up at Lance.

“What do you mean _classes_?” Pidge asks, voice uncomprehending.

Keith kinda gets it, because who _didn’t_ know how to use a computer? Keith knew how to use his dad’s phone and watch the weather channel before he knew how to form his own sentences.

"It's just like-” Pidge continues, “-have you ever used a computer before? The internet?" Pidge asks, pure question and maybe the edge of exasperation leaking into their voice.

Lance raises a brow from where he's peeking over their shoulder.

"Do you mean like America Online?" Lance asks curiously, blue eyes shining inquisitively. "Cuz my Dad told me that's all a scam, he says there's no future in stuff like that."

Keith had to hide the snort that almost escaped him under the guise of a cough when Pidge whips back around, eyes widened to the size of saucers. The Green Paladin’s jaw immediately tenses, eyes shining in offense though clearly not at Lance as the Blue Paladin slowly lifted a finger to begin tapping on the screen again over their shoulder.

“What about a cell phone? You have one of those right?” Pidge asks, there’s something like desperation in their voice. But at the wrinkling of Lance’s nose Keith can immediately tell it’s time to cut the conversation off before it has a chance of going into off-limits territory.

“You mean a cellular phone?” Lance asks, frowning slightly. “Dude- I can’t even convince my parents to give me my own _phone line_ , it’s so annoying when my little brother butts into all my calls. Like this one time I was trying to ask out Melanie Foster and he-”

“Lance.” Keith cuts in. Lance looks back up at him, lips slipping shut as they pushed away from the station to turn to him in question. “We should head down to the hangers, I’m going to show you how to use the zipline to get to your line for when Allura needs to tap out and head back here.”

Lance’s eyes suddenly sparkle in interest.

“A zipline?” He asks, skipping closer to Keith. Keith nods, a smile tugging at his lips as Lance’s grin grows, turning to Hunk and a vacantly muttering Pidge and offering a quick goodbye. Lance tugs Keith forward before slowing back and letting him lead them to the Blue Paladin’s elevator shaft.

The entire way down Lance is shifting in place, squirming in excitement and occasionally glancing over at Keith.

Keith holds his stare, offering a small smile whenever Lance’s eyes would linger.

For whatever reason, Lance never pulls his hands out of Keith’s.

XxX

“I know it looks difficult- but I swear it’s not.”

Piloting is definitely Keith’s forte.

Lance sits in the Blue Lion’s seat, tugging at one of the messages pinned to the chair. From the handwriting Keith can tell they’re from Allura, they’re probably notes of good-luck for Lance. But they’re also in Altean- which neither of them can read.

Lance’s eyes are doubtful when they look back at him, one of his hands gripping a steering staff.

“Where are the pedals on this thing?” Lance asks, tilting his head back to Keith. “How do you make it go?”

“It’s not really like a car.” Keith says, resting his hip against the dashboard. “It’s like I asked before- have you ever flown before?”

Lance frowns, forehead creasing in a mix of confusion and uncertainty.

“I haven’t even gotten my license yet.” Lance says it in a quiet whisper, face tilted down. His cheeks are flushed and in an instant Keith can tell Lance is embarrassed about that fact. Embarrassed that he doesn’t have his driver’s license.

For some reason that tugs at something in Keith.

“Neither do I but that didn’t stop me.”

It’s the first time he’s brought up him stealing Shiro’s car since he first mentioned it. Lance must know that too because his head shoots up, expression surprised for a second before a soft laugh bubbles out of him. Keith’s lips tug up into a smile.

“I’ll help you.” Keith offers. He knows that Allura has set Blue up into a simulator mode, given the Lion strict instructions not to take Lance out of the hanger until he was comfortable. That should make showing Lance the ropes a bit easier.

Lance smiles, both hands resting on the steering staff as Keith comes closer.

“Oh so you don’t have your license but you’re some kind of flyboy?”

Keith smirks, lowering his hands over Lance’s and pulling them into the starting position. The Blue Lion’s screen turn black before the simulated rocky terrain of Gliphy 98-DG appears in front of them.

Lance lets out a wheeze of surprise.

“Well I don’t mean to brag.” Keith begins, lips still curled up as he steadied Lance’s positioning for a smooth flight. “But I was the best Pilot at the Garrison.”

“You were studying to be a pilot?” Lance asks, curiosity and awe in his voice as he tries to peer down at the simulated canyon below, nearly falling out of his seat.

Keith feels his smile falter.

“Yeah.” He replies. “I was.”

Lance looks back up at him, awe fading to confusion as he tried to look at Keith and the screen in front of them at the same time.

“Was?” He asks, voice probing. Keith can’t find it in himself to be annoyed. Maybe at one point he might’ve snapped at Lance, months ago. But not anymore.

“It’s the same old story. I messed up. Got kicked out.” Keith shrugs, maybe if he does it enough it’ll feel more true.

Lance makes a slight sound, one that sounds vaguely upset.

“But you were the best!” Lance insists, face going between looking back at him and looking at the screen. “They can’t just get rid of you if you’re the best!”

“I guess that just wasn’t enough to keep me around.”

Lance makes another noise- this time indignant.

“It’s alright.” Keith assures, leaning in closer as he eased Lance through a tight squeeze in the canyon. His armor plate presses against Lance’s back, forearms sliding closer together.

“No one wanted me there anyway.”

Lance takes a sharp gasp of offense, his grip tightening on the steering staff and nearly veering them into a canyon wall.

Keith manages to save them in the nick of time, pushing the staffs down and letting them just graze the sides.

“Careful,” Keith advises, “We’re taking it slow at first so you need to try and keep it steady.”

“Didn’t anyone try to do something?” Lance asks, peeking back, brows furrowed in concern for Keith like the Red Paladin had just recently been kicked out and it hadn’t been over a year ago. “You had to have at least had a few people on your side right? I mean you were the best so you were probably pretty popular too, huh. Got invited to a lot of parties.” Lance tries to nudge him with his shoulder but it just ends up jutting into Keith’s cheek.

Keith pushes back against Lance’s shoulder, shaking his head and adjusting the speed of the Lion as the simulated Galra fighters began appearing on the scanners.

“Not really.” Keith says, resting his cheek near the crook of Lance’s neck. “I didn’t make many friends. So no parties for me.”

“Well it’s a party-” Lance tries to argue. “No one’s really supposed to invite you, you’re just supposed to show up.”

At that Keith can’t help but scoff and Lance makes a sound of confusion.

“Sure.” Keith accedes. “But the guy throwing it probably only wanted his friends there. If someone wanted me there- they likely would’ve asked me.”

Keith helps Lance thread them through an arched opening in the canyon.

It’s quiet for almost a full minute before Lance quietly pipes up again.

“Is that really how it works?” He asks. This time his face doesn’t peek back to look at Keith. “If you’re not invited then… that means they don’t want you there?”

Keith opens his mouth, reply ready- but stops.

Why would that matter so much?

Keith can feel his lips curling, ready to ask a different question when he’s struck by a sudden memory- when Shiro was questioning Lance after he woke up.

_‘-was goin’ to Jackie Craig’s party’_

Keith feels his arms tense, a frown forming on his furrowed brows. Is that what’s bothering Lance?

Keith glances down at the other boy, his face looking away but Keith can catch the edge of a down turned expression.

Keith doesn’t care about stuff like that. He’s had a lot of time to practice not caring.

But Lance.

No.

Lance does care.

And if Lance does then- well so does Keith.

“Not for everyone I’m sure.” Keith finally musters out, stroking his thumb against Lance’s knuckles in what he hopes feels assuring “But no one liked me from the get go so- no one would’ve missed me there anyway.”

Lance makes a sudden huffing breath, like he can’t believe that someone wouldn’t want _Keith_ at the theoretical party.

The simulation begins slowing to a stop, their Galra pursuers are long behind them and the exit to the canyon is visible on screen. Keith eases back and lets Lance push them through the last leg. Once he’s through the screen goes dark again and a message in Altean pops up, personalized and Keith knows this one is also from Allura.

Pulling away, Keith’s hands trail back against Lance’s as he stands up. Lance pushes the steering staff away, rising and turning to face Keith with a serious expression. Keith raises a brow, feeling the slightest bit of curiosity swirl around as Lance takes another step closer, resting his palms on Keith’s wrists and gripping them softly, pulling them to his hips and resting them on his waist.

Lance steps in closer to Keith letting their breastplates touch as his blue eyes started shining with some indiscernible emotion, he stared into Keith’s confused gaze.

“If you’d gone to my school,” Lance began, “I would’ve been your friend.”

That does something.

Keith doesn’t know what to say.

What does he say?

Lance stares up at him for a second longer before pulling Keith in closer and wrapping his arms around the Red Paladin in a firm hug.

Keith’s palms are situated on Lance’s waist, Lance’s hands have snaked under his elbow and he has one palm on the small of Keith’s back and the other right under his neck. He almost feels like he’s being cradled.

What does he say?

Lance’s breath is warm, brushing against Keith’s ear as Lance presses their cheeks together.

What does he say?

Lance’s body is loose and relaxed, not like Keith who is tensed to the high heavens, a spine unyielding like it’s frozen or made of iron. Keith doesn’t want to be made of iron.

What does he say?

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Slowly, and he hopes it’s enough, enough to say something to Lance- someone who loves words and talking with his entire being. Keith wraps his arms tighter around Lance’s waist, hands resting heavily as he rubs them up and down, hoping that it’s somehow telling Lance what he can’t put into words- what he doesn’t know how to.

Gently, Lance rubs his cheek against Keith’s, his warm skin sending a soft shiver down Keith’s spine.

 _Me too._ Keith hopes that’s what he’s saying when he rubs back, brushing his nose against Lance’s hanging bangs. _Me too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap: keith finds out that lance is really really really looking forward to prom and is finding it much much harder to pretend like lance has a prom to look forward to.  
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keith finds out that lance is really really really looking forward to prom and is finding it much much harder to pretend like lance has a prom to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy guess what yo girl just restarted her semester and i gues organic chem and calc were just a touch harder than i thought theyd be lmaoo

Keith doesn’t have a lot of memories of the Garrison. It’d been mainly trying to scramble a passing grade in theoretical classes and waiting for practicals to come around so he could steamroll everyone else.

It’s why he’s trying to grill Hunk Shiro, and Pidge for anything interesting or weird that happened while he wasn’t paying attention.

“Are you asking for gossip?” Shiro asks incredulously when Keith asks him. Keith feels the flush creep up his neck.

“No.”

Shiro raises a brow, setting down his chest plate on his bed before turning to face the Red Paladin.

“What’s this about?” He asks, confusion and suspicion in every line of his face as he stares down at Keith like they’re back in his office and Keith is trying to confess something he did before another instructor tells on him.

“ _Nothing_.” Keith bites back. Shiro’s eyes are disbelieving. It lasts for a hot second before realization enters his gaze.

“Is this for Lance?” He asks.

“ _No_ .” Keith stresses but the blooming smile on Shiro’s face tells him he’s been caught red handed. His hands’ in the cookie jar and there crumbs _all over_ his face. “I’m just trying to reciprocate conversation when I’m with him!”

That’s how friendship works isn’t it?

Give a little, get a little?

The only gossip that Keith has is the rumors he made up about James Griffin back in his first year.

Shiro’s smile doesn’t fall, if anything he seems almost _pleased_ with the fact that Keith is trying to get some dirt on other Garrison students so he can talk shit about them to Lance. Because lately it seems like Lance _loves_ asking Keith questions about himself, even things that the Red Paladin might normally punch anyone else for.

_Keith, who’s your favorite musician?_

_Where’d you grow up?_

_What’s your favorite food?_

_Your favorite movie?_

_Your favorite playmate? Mine’s Miss October!_

Keith isn’t the type to spill his guts easily and given the circumstances the last thing he needs is to fuck with the delicate balance he’s struck with Lance by offering an answer that didn’t make sense.

“I’m just...trying to be a….good friend.” Keith finally admits. Shiro is positively beaming and seems more excited than he has a right to be at the prospect that Keith befriended someone all on his own.

_Holy shit Keith befriended someone all on his own._

“Well Keith,” Shiro begins, straightening up and attempting to reign himself in, “while I get where you’re coming from- If you want to show reciprocation to Lance’s actions, why don’t you just try...asking him about himself?”

What?

“What?”

Asking Lance about himself? As if the other boy doesn’t already readily offer up every minor detail about himself? Lance once told Keith the amount of tiles he had on his bedroom ceiling back home, so Keith really isn’t sure just how much more personal Shiro wants Keith to get.

“Ask him what he likes.” Shiro repeats. “What’s his favorite thing to do?”

At that Keith immediately opens his mouth, a response right on the tip of his tongue before stopping.

Does he know what Lance’s favorite thing to do is?

He feels like he should. Lance talks too much for him to have not mentioned it at _all_.

But as Keith mentally scans through their conversations, he realizes that _no_. Lance’s hasn’t actually talked much about himself at all.

He knows the names of Lance’s most frequented hangouts and the recurring names of his shitty/horny/nosy classmates, he also knows about a third of each of his siblings’ names but that’s about it.  

On the other hand Lance seems to know everything about Keith’s days in the Garrison, his meetings with Hunk filling in the bubbles for any questions Lance might’ve normally directed his way.

Keith’s expression must give him away because Shiro shifts from foot to foot awkwardly waiting for him to finish pulling himself together, it’s not much longer after the fact that Keith is throwing a half thought out ‘thanks’ over his shoulder and turning to go meet Lance in the training room for their morning stretches.

XxX

“-So then one day Randy Harris comes into English really really late, I’m talkin’ like ten minutes before the bell rings late- and of course Mr. Hall wants to know where he was an’ stuff and Randy starts sputtering out all these excuses and as he’s talking we can all see that his _fly is down_ and there’s like _hickies_ all up his neck and _then_ Dana Barnes turns around and tells everyone that there’s lipstick on his pants crotch and Randy’s girlfriend sits right next to me in English and she was-!”

“What’s your favorite thing to do?” Keith asks, breaking in just as Lance is raising his arms to try and show Keith the fury that is a 17 year old getting cheated on. Lance freezes, hands still raised above his head.

“What?” He asks, tilting his head in confusion and shifting his legs up slightly from Keith’s lap. Keith lays a firm hand on Lance’s shin, pulling it back up onto his thighs.

“I wanna know more....about _you_ ,” Keith says, quickly specifying as he’s resting his other hand on Lance’s ankle. “I don’t care about Randy Harris getting blown under the bleachers or in the janitor’s closet by Steven Marsh or Tiffany Whatever.”

Lance lets out a sudden startled laugh, snorting like a baby piglet before slapping his hands over his mouth.

Keith bites down on his lip to hold back the developing smirk on his face.

“...Steven Marsh wouldn’t be caught dead near Randy Harris’ dick.” Lance weakly argues, pulling his hand away from his face.

Keith shrugs, not particularly invested before trying to lock eyes with Lance who’s gaze was downcast.

“You have a nice laugh.”

Lance sputters, head snapping up to stare at Keith in incredulity as a throaty sound that might be one of disgust made its way out of his open mouth.

“Ugh no, I sound like a pig.” He immediately whined reaching for Keith’s shoulders so he can rock himself back and forth in agitation. It always reminds Keith of a baby for some reason, that Lance rocks himself for comfort and clings to Keith for support.

“Maybe.” Keith shrugs, tilting his head so Lance can latch his hands onto his shoulder. “But it’s a nice pig.” He adds, slowly batting away Lance’s fingers when they began reaching for his face. “Now back to you. I didn’t get my answer.”

At that Lance seems to slow down, hands trailing back to his side so he can keep himself propped up as he leans back in thought. Lance’s head is tilted back, eyes focused on the ceiling as he hummed some vaguely recognizable jingle.

“Well...I like going to football games I guess? Pep Rallies too maybe?” Lance muses, brows furrowed in thought like he wasn’t too sure of himself of how true his love for them were.

Keith frowns slightly, tugging Lance closer and sharing in Lance’s wide smile as the other boy slid across the floor to him.

“No- I mean like what do you do for fun?” Keith asks, tapping gently at Lance’s exposed ankles.

Lance hums in thought.

“Well planning for student council meetings are really fun!” Lance insists, kicking his legs in little flutters like he’s at the pool.

“Yeahl?” Keith can’t help but ask, brows raising in question. He’s pretty sure Lance had given him some crumbs of information on that particular topic, skimming over them when he tried asking Keith if he wanted to go to the mall with Lance when they got back to Earth.

“Yeah!” Lance agrees enthusiastically, pushing himself up so quickly he nearly rams his forehead straight into Keith’s jaw. “I didn’t even tell you did I?” Lance muses, not noticing as Keith began rubbing at his neck in slight pain from flinching back and avoiding their two-person collision.

“Tell me what?” Keith asks, turning his head to the side and rotating it to soothe the suddenly strained muscles.

“I’m the student body president at my school!” Lance replies eagerly, leaning in closer to Keith. “It means I’m in charge of some really cool shit!”

Lance says it with such sparkling pride that Keith can’t help but look up and into his eyes to meet his glittering gaze. He’s more excited at this little tidbit about himself than he seems to be about everything else combined, excluding maybe talking about corn fields.

 _‘Ask him what he likes.’_ Keith suddenly recalls, Shiro’s words floating to the forefront of his mind. _‘What’s his favorite thing to do?’_

“What kind of cool shit?” Keith asks, inching closer as Lance begins settling himself back to sit on his haunches.

Lance beams.

“Well during one of the meetings I got into an argument with Casey M. and Casey G. about spirit week because I said we should do like a _crazy hat day_ instead of a _crazy sock day_ -” Lance begins, tugging Keith’s hands to him and intertwining their fingers together while he continued talking.

Keith sometimes wondered if Lance even registered when he did stuff like that. But as Keith began tightening his own grip, the pads of his fingers lightly stroking at the back of Lance’s hands- he found that he didn’t really care either way.

“-but then I brought it back when I tried telling everyone we should start focusing more on the fundraisers, ya know? Candles and chocolate bar sales? Cuz’ last I checked with Principal Taylor, Prom tickets were looking _really really_ expensive.”

Lance says it with such dismay, eyes suddenly losing their shine as he loosened his grip on Keith’s hands, nearly letting them go. Keith straightened in attention as Lance began slightly chewing on his lip, pearly canine on the border of puncturing the delicate skin.

“...And...that’s bad?” Keith ventured, tugging Lance’s loosened grip back up and trying to adjust their hold.

“So bad!” Lance agrees, nodding with fervor as he turned wide and desperate eyes to Keith with something like turmoil shining behind them. “If Prom rolls around and the tickets are crazy expensive than everyone’s gunna blame _me_!” Lance insists, shifting in place as he began leaning his entire weight into Keith, forcing the Red Paladin to drop their hands and wrap them around Lance’s waist in a strange half hug as Lance propped his chin onto Keith’s shoulder.

Awkwardly, Keith freed one of his hands and began sliding it up Lance’s spine to pat him gently between his shoulder blades in a way he hoped was consoling. It’s slightly bastardized from the way his dad used to comfort him whenever he was upset but Keith is pretty sure that Lance was slightly sad too, at the very least.

Lance rubbed his cheek into Keith’s shoulder as he kept trying to pat him out of his sudden slump.

“Cuz Prom’s really important to everyone ya’ know?” Lance murmurs, warm breath halfway muffled into Keith’s jacket.

Actually, Keith doesn’t know. He can’t really see it but if Lance thinks so then it must be.

“And if I do like...a really good job-” Lance continues, nearly mouthing the words against Keith’s cheek, “they might… ya know...”

Keith’s brows furrow in slight confusion.

“Might what?”

Lance makes a noise, peeling his face of Keith’s shoulder to look up at him, nose grazing the soft flesh of Keith’s throat.

Keith swallows thickly, pulling away slightly so he can meet Lance’s eyes and ignore the shiver that shoots down his spine.

“Might...ya know..” He trails off, cheeks going a slight pink like he’s embarrassed. Keith is only a little startled because he’d almost been certain that wasn’t an emotion Lance even registered. “..Vote me Prom King.” Lance’s voice is briefly wistful, eyes going distant like they were lost in thought or in some fantasy about being crowned some title at a school dance.

Keith doesn’t understand.

Lance slowly lowers himself back to lay down.

“I wanna be Prom King.” He repeats, expression nearly dreamy. Keith lets Lance cross his ankles where they’re once again resting on his thighs.

Keith doesn’t know much about school dances. The closest thing the Garrison ever threw was when Shiro and the Holts made it through a successful launch and they had sparkling juice and cookies along with their dinner that night.

Maybe he doesn’t get it because Keith wasn’t expecting something like this to apparently… matter so much to Lance. It hadn’t gone over his head, the (pretty large) possibility that maybe Lance talked so much about school and home _because_ he was homesick. That made sense didn’t it? For Lance to lay out and try to make sense of what his life was and had been before waking up on an alien ship. The other boy suddenly had a grand total of six people to make conversation with- none of which, in reality, actually _got_ him.

Keith bites down on his lip as something akin to guilt began swirling away in his stomach.

Distantly, he registers that Lance is talking softly, excitement bubbling through his voice as he babbles to Keith about _‘tuxes’_ and _‘corsages’_ and _‘limos’_.

Keith listens with half an ear as something else begins rising in his chest. Lance’s lips are curled up in a small smile as he starts talking about ‘themes’.

“...Jesse Johnson keeps trying to get everyone on board with a ‘Hollywood’ theme and I’m like _‘that’s so lame, Jessica! California’s like right there and everyone knows you only want that theme cuz you got into UCLA like big whoop!_ ’” Lance, for some reason, tries to mimic his own voice. Keith ignores the strange bubbling in his chest, as he leans forward, tucking Lance’s sneakered feet into his stomach.

“Well what theme do _you_ want?” Keith asks, crossing his arms and resting them on Lance’s bent knees. Lance tilts his head up, chin nearly meeting his sternum so he can shoot Keith a brilliant smile.

“I wanna do the Fairytale theme!” He grins. “Can you imagine it? It’d make getting a crown so much cooler ya know?! Well, even if it is just gunna be like a cheap plastic one.”

Keith thinks briefly of the circlet Allura is always wearing, the blue gem in the center always growing a dusky color. He wonders if she has any crowns stuffed away somewhere in the castle.

“Maybe if you ask nicely Allura would lend you one of hers.” Keith blurts out before he can stop himself. At that Lance kicks him in his stomach, forcing all the wind out of him as he scrambles to sit up.

Keith is hunched over trying to breathe when Lance pushes his face closer to Keith and whispers in a hushed voice.

_“Oh my god I forgot she’s like an alien Princess!”_

Keith wonders how someone can just _forget_ that another person is royalty. He doesn’t get a chance to ask before Lance is grasping his shoulders and pushing him up so he can settle in between Keith’s knees.

“She has crowns Keith!”

Keith knows that. Knows because he’s pretty sure he said it.

Lance is happy, practically spilling out of his seams with joy like the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Keith makes with too much jelly that spill out of the sides when he closes it.

“Everyone would lose it if I could get like actual Royalty worn crowns!” Lance’s wide smile is there for a full second before he suddenly freezes and slaps both hands on Keith’s cheeks when he lets out a sudden gasp.

Keith’s lips are puckered up like a fish so the _‘ow’_ he releases comes out incomprehensible and as more of a slight moan. Lance’s distressed face comes in closer and Keith forgets about the bit of stinging on his cheeks in favor of the sudden shift in Lance.

He’s about to try and pry his jaw free from Lance’s calloused hands when the other boy opens his mouth to speak.

“Will you guys be able to get me back home in time?”

Keith freezes. The hands that were beginning to reach for Lance’s fingers, pressing against his cheeks, fall back down to his side.

“Like I mean you guys are cool and all and Keith you and Hunk are like totally my new best friends but-!”

Keith drowns out the rest of Lance’s words, his eyes only blankly watching as Lance’s mouth moved, thin brows furrowing in thought at the occasional word.

 _Fuck_.

XxX

When Keith returns to his room, his cheeks are still hot and Shiro is standing outside his room, propped against the door like he belongs there.

Shiro spots him as he turns the corner and pushes away to wait as Keith approaches, question and the hint of excitement in his eyes.

“How was training today?” Shiro asks as Keith gets closer to the door. It’s the same question that he asks Keith every night. And usually Keith will give the same answer every night.

But Lance’s words are still playing in the back of his head like a broken record.

_‘Will you guys be able to get me back home in time?’_

“He’s really excited for Prom.”

The small smile Shiro had on his face is instantly washed away. Keith’s eyes travel down and he keeps his gazed locked on the floor as he reaches his door, stepping inside when it slides open for him.

Shiro makes no move to follow him and lets the door slide shut. Keith leans against it the moment it closes, eyes staring up at his grey, metallic ceiling.

 **_Fuck_ **.

XxX

Whatever it is Keith did, it opened up a floodgate because Prom is _all_ Lance talks about now.

It seems Keith really hit the nail on the head with him because he would not have guessed _this_ to be Lance’s sweet spot.

Maybe something about farming? That’s what he’d have guessed a week ago. Keith is pretty sure Lance grew up on a farm because the other boy talks _a lot_ about corn and it may somewhat explain the inexplicable dislike he has for Allura’s mice. Referring to them quite uncharitably as ‘varmints’, Keith thinks that’s a bit unfair especially since they do try to help even if it is in ways that aren’t really significant and don’t get performed very well.

But all that is cast to the side in favor of talking about his town’s limo prices and the student council’s choice in music.

“-Robbie Ward made photocopies in the main office of his ideal playlist and it was all just songs by 112, 98 Degrees, 702, 4 P.M, and the 69 Boyz like what is this a mathlete competition?” Lance asks, shrugging his jacket off to tie around his waist as they make their way to the kitchen.

Keith nods, a tenseness in his shoulders that hasn’t gone away for days making the movement almost robotic.

“Where’s the TLC? The Spice Girls? The Madonna? The Mariah Carey?” Lance waves his hands like he’s personally offended and he’s trying to swing on the spirit of Robbie Ward.

Keith makes a sympathizing sound like he understands.

Lance continues babbling when they turn into the kitchen and spot Hunk lining trays of baking sheets and Pidge watching him with careful eyes from one of the countertops.

Lance is shooting them both a wide smile as he slides into one of the open chairs before turning back to face Keith.

“What about you Keith?” Lance asks as Keith takes the offered seat beside him. “What kind of music did they play at your Prom?”

Keith freezes.

Beside him Hunk immediately fumbles with his tray and Pidge tenses from their position up on the counter.

“I…-” Keith chances a glance up.

Hunk is avoiding his eyes, hands busying themselves into kitchen mitts. Pidge meets his gaze, brown eyes staring into Keith’s, their hands clenched into the seams of their shirt.

He knows Shiro must’ve told them something, maybe not exactly what Keith said but enough for Hunk’s internal guilt compass to begin beeping again and for Pidge to begin sending him half-way insistent messages, ones that wanted him to sit Lance down and _talk_.

“I...-” Keith turns back to face Lance.

Lance is staring at him with an open expression, mouth slightly open like he’s about to hang on to every single one of Keith’s words. It’s the same face he makes when they’re in Blue, flying together.

“I…I didn’t go to Prom.”

Lance lets out a sharp gasp of surprise and nearly falls out of his chair in shock.

Keith’s lips begin to purse, the edge of something tingling at the back of his mind. Pidge lets out a huff and pushes themselves off the counter and storms out of the room without another word. Hunk winces as the doors slide shut behind the Green Paladin, turning to one of the cabinets to begin pulling out mixing bowls.

Lance doesn’t notice the suddenly tensed atmosphere, instead pressing one of his hands forward and resting them on Keith’s thighs, leverage for the other boy to push himself forward and into Keith’s bubble so he can begin whispering questions into Keith’s ear, other hand cupped around it like he was trying to convey top secret information.

“You mean at all? Did you not wanna go or did they not let you?” He says that with particular contempt like he’s gearing up to go beat up Keith’s old principles for not letting him go to a hypothetical dance.  “-Because there’s this kid in my Calculus class, David right? And they’re not letting him go to Prom because he-”

Keith feels himself begin drowning out Lance’s voice, the usual gossip going in one ear and out the other. All he really registers is Lance pressing in close to him and the sound of Hunk nervously fiddling with the Altean oven and goo dispenser.

Lance has been putting a lot of thought into what he’s going to do once back on Earth.

He’s already asked Keith if he would come with him and a few of his classmates to go pick out a tux when they got back.

Lance is going to be sharing a limo with four other classmates and their dates. Lance has already handed in his part of the rental fee.

Lance is in the middle of a fued with a  Senior class rep about getting a DJ or cutting into their budget to hire a live band.

Lance is currently telling Keith about possibly being able to sneak him into his school on Prom night so long as he has no problem crawling through the boy’s bathroom window.

Lance considers Keith his _friend_.

Keith is _lying_ to his friend.

XxX

Lance likes Keith.

Keith lets Lance talk about crop rotation when someone at school would’ve told him to shove it and he lets Lance get all touchy touchy when the boys at his school would’ve squirmed away and gotten all weird about it.

He even lets Lance hold his hand and hug after practice.

Other than him, only his brothers and sometimes his dad would let him do that. So Lance appreciates his good friend Keith for indulging him.

Even more so when he lets Lance talk for hours on end about Prom. Anyone else probably would’ve snapped at him about it (he knows his mom did after spending an afternoon listening to Lance talk about corsages).

So Lance is more than a little devastated when he hears that Keith never got to go to a Prom of his own. He says it with hesitant nonchalance but Lance can still see how tensed he is, pulled tight like the bow of a violin.

So of course Lance feels like that’s pretty unfair. That someone as cool and amazing as Keith didn’t get to go. But even without really thinking much on it, Lance knows immediately what he should do. Even as he continues half-babbling out his thoughts to Keith as he walks him back to his room after dinner.

Sneaking Keith into his school’s  Prom would be a challenge and a half. Sure sneaking him in through the boy’s bathroom window could work, _if_ he didn’t already know that Principle Taylor would be posting chaperones in the bathrooms this year so that no one could sneak in alcohol and spike the punch like they did the year before.

They’d be checking tickets at the door so Keith wouldn’t be able to just waltz in unless he managed to score one. Which _also_ wasn’t possible because there was a strict rule against non-students attending unless they were there as someone’s date.

Lance nearly breaks his skull open when he sits up in sudden realization.

Keith was young and attractive. Lance is certain that if he just tagged along with him to a game or to lunch one day he’d be able to scout around for any dames that might be willing to ask Keith to the dance.

Lance slowly lowers himself back on the bed, something like excitement beginning to bubble in his gut. Because if he can get Keith a date with a girl from his school, then the two of them could hang out at Prom _together_.

Lance lets his eyes begin to slip closed, the thin material of his blue gifted pajamas rubbing against his skin as he settles deeper under the blankets. As Lance breathes steadily out of his nose he still can’t help the strange ache that starts blooming in his chest as he tries to imagine Keith going to the dance with like...Angie Simmons, or Dina Baker, or god forbid _Leah Gold_.

He knows that along with the limo rental, Lance has also already put down a payment for the hotel room he and a bunch of his other classmates are planning to party in afterwards.

And Lance isn’t stupid, despite popular belief. He’s watched movies and he’s heard his older brothers brag. He knows what happens during the Prom Night after-party (some would even argue it to be the _real_ party of the night). But it’s not like Lance was planning on going into it with anything other than a heart full of hope and a crown on his head.

But still, as he tries to fall asleep- all he feels is a soup of discomfort beginning to swirl in his stomach as he tries to imagine Keith going up to the hotel room with him after Lance has been crowned. He imagines Angie Simmons or Dina Baker laying it on thick all night and trying to cajole Keith into one of the rooms.

He imagines Keith, with his harsh face that softens slightly when he looks at Lance, following them and closing the door with a soft ‘click’ behind him.

Lance feels suddenly ill as he settles down deeper under the blanket, a sudden tightness in his throat that brings a slight sting to his eyes.

No.

Lance’s hands tighten into fists in his blankets.

He’d just need to think of another way to sneak Keith in.

XxX

Lance knows he probably looks dumpier than usual when he walks into breakfast in the morning. Keith offers him a questioning look when he collapses into the seat next to him. Hunk smiles at him from across the table and Lance manages to muster a smile back before poking at one of the bowls set out in the middle. Shiro is at one end of the table, situated beside a tablet engrossed Pidge. Occasionally, Shiro glances up to stare at Keith who hasn’t looked up at him once.

Lance knows that something’s going on with that, though he’s not certain what. It’s enough for Keith to have cancelled their usual daily training in favor of some important meeting that he has with the currently absent aliens and Shiro the ever elusive fox that Lance only gets to admire from a distance.

The two of them leave as soon as Keith cleans off his plate, Shiro following after him with brisk steps that leave the rest of them staring after them once they’ve left.

Lance is still in the middle of working through his goo when Hunk begins gathering his own empty plate, even reaching for Keith and Shiro’s own abandoned utensils and cups. Lance’s cheeks are stuffed like a chipmunk’s and he can’t speak without risking choking so he’s stuck watching as Hunk offers him a half-smile goodbye before striding out of the dining room.

Lance is almost positive the other boy hasn’t done it done purpose. But still, he can’t help but chance a look down the table where the smaller Pidge is hunched over with a full plate still in front of them.

Just as Lance’s eyes have begun to linger, brown eyes suddenly snap up to meet his. It takes all the willpower in his body not to breathe in a shocked gasp and send the bolus of food in his throat down the wrong pipe. The slight wheeze he lets out must not be silent enough because Pidge gives him a sudden startled look, sitting up in their chair and glancing around around the room with half panicked eyes like they’re looking for anyone that might be hiding in the corners of the empty room. Lance briefly thinks they look a bit like a meerkat on lookout, their light brown hair flying around their head as they frantically scan once more before pushing away form their plate and make their way to Lance’s side.

Lance manages to swallow just as Pidge slides in beside him, their hands hovering indecisively over him. Pidge continues to watch him with wary eyes as Lance downs the packet of water beside him.

Lance takes deep gasping breaths as Pidge shifts from foot to foot beside him, their gaze probing as they watch Lance for any signs that he might stop breathing again. Lance tries to offer a slight nod, inclining his head as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away the bit of spit up in the corner of his mouth.

Pidge’s shoulders lose their tenseness, slumping down slightly as they ease back into Keith’s abandoned chair. Relief is clear in their face as they tilt their head back.

Lance shifts in his seat, pushing his plate away and tucking his folded hands down on his lap. Pidge is silent, not looking at him as they stare up at the ceiling.

Lance watches them with scrambled words in his mouth.

Unlike Hunk or Keith, he’s not sure how to act around Pidge. Because Pidge is the size of the rosy cheeked freshmen that he passes in the hall. Most of them are too small to deliver on any of the smack talk they like to dish out at pep rallies and home games but Pidge has a slight air around them. A short temper definitely, from what he’s seen. And also, what feels to Lance, a small dislike of him.

Hunk has insisted that wasn’t the truth, but Lance still hasn’t been in a situation where it was just the two of them, no buffers to smooth any rough conversation. So Lance has no idea how accurate Hunk’s assurance was.

Why Lance is so bent out of shape about not being particularly favored by Pidge, he’s not quite sure himself. Maybe it’s because Pidge is Hunk and Keith’s friend and Lance feels some deep need to be liked by the friends of his friends.

But Lance has seen how Pidge acts around him. How they’re always eyeing him, their eyes shining some indiscernible emotion whenever they stare at him. It makes Lance feel like he’s done something wrong, like Pidge caught him mid-crime and is judging him for it. Not to mention that they always look like they’re on the edge of saying something, their lips pursed like they’re consciously stopping themselves from spilling whatever it is they want to say to his face.

But Lance doesn’t say anything. He always figured that so long as there’s other people in the room, Pidge might tolerate him more. Though that doesn't seem to be true given how they’d stormed out of the kitchen the other say once he sat down.

“S-sorry.” Lance finally manages to muster out, raising a hand to begin massaging his throat, giving them something to do rather than fidget in his lap. Pidge raises their head to look at him, slight incredulity in the lines of their face.

“For what?” They ask, raising a brow. “Nearly dying?”

Lance offers an unsure shrug.

Pidge sighs deeply and it sounds like exasperation to Lance. And now his hands are back to fidgeting, pulling at the fraying knees of his jeans.

“I’m...jus’ sorry I guess.” Lance mumbles lowly, tucking his head down into his collar like it could shield him from the other. He can’t be this bad at interacting can he? Pidge and him haven’t even been talking for a minute.

“You… you don’t have to apologize for anything.” Pidge offers slowly, their brown probing eyes staring at Lance.

It sorta felt like it to Lance.

“I… uh...thanks.” Lance finally murmurs, lifting his head up to offer a hesitant smile to the other. Pidge slowly returns it, though it looks more forced than Lance’s.

The two of them fall into silence, neither of their eyes meeting as their gazes go back down to the table.

What does he say?

What’s Lance supposed to say?

He doesn’t know anything about Pidge, not like he knows Hunk or Keith. All he knows from the tidbits of information Hunk had given him were that Pidge was a big fan of technology, they were really smart, and that-

“Hunk says that you were the one who found me.”

Pidge’s head shoots up at that, wide eyes staring up at Lance.

“I guess...like I should thank you for that.” He offers hesitantly.

Pidge’s brow creases unsurely, shoulders shrugging in a quick motion.

“Thank you.” Lance repeats, a small smile working its way onto his face. “Without you who knows how long I could’ve been stuck back there ya’ know?”

Lance tries to offer it like a joke, a little ‘ha-ha’ funny joke. But as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Pidge’s face drops. Their eyes widen and jaw tightens as something begins brimming behind their expression. Something that reminds him of all the instances where Lance somehow manages to set Pidge off without meaning to.

Lance scrambles for something to fix it.

“Hunk never said what you were there for!” He interjects, hoping it isn’t too late to save their conversation. And the fact that Pidge was the one to buy him from the clearance section ( _the clearance section_ \- not even the full priced part) seems like the safest bet. “So...uh what were you actually trying to buy?” Lance hopes that he’s not crossing a line by asking.

Pidge’s eyes are still burning brightly, expression tight as they glare down at the table. But as Lance gently prods they lift their head, eyes seeking Lance’s as their brows soften to something more considering.

“...I was gunna buy a video game.” They offer hesitantly.

Lance beams.

_Video games._

Okay, this was something he could do. It wasn’t something he could talk about much with Keith, who’d already stated his clear dislike for them. And it’s not something Hunk had shown much interest in either. But Pidge? It looks like he’d found a kindred spirit in Pidge.

Despite how short his time their may have been, Lance had had the time of his life working at the arcade. His boss was always trying to get Lance’s opinion on things, like what did he think about possibly buying _this_ new machine to fill the space of an old one that didn’t get much traffic. Lance’s old boss let him sit and read his old issues of Game Informer magazine when days were slow and he let Lance in on secrets about big name games that were currently in development from a designer friend of his.

If Lance wasn’t set on growing corn for life like his dad, he’d probably try to open up his own arcade. No matter what praise Mr. Brier sang about the future of Personal Computer gaming, Lance knew that nothing could really replace the high of seeing your name up on the leader-board.

“What kind of game?” Lance asks, eager in every tone of his voice as he shifts his chair to turn and face Pidge. It isn’t long before Pidge’s eyes begin glittering with something else, something friendlier as they begin winding into a long spiel about vintage games and how they’d been the height of creativity and design.

Lance listens with heightened attention as Pidge babbles on, fingers working like a physical checklist as they began listing the significance of consoles and how it had changed the industry forever. Before long Pidge is waxing poetic about her favorite game.

“-don’t get me wrong Killbot Phantasm and all it’s remakes are great and all, but nothing can beat the originals- the story, the characters, the journey. You can’t say the first wave of remakes was good without paying homage to its source you know?”

Lance nods, smile slipping slightly as he tries to mentally rework Pidge’s words.

Killbot Phantasm?

That’s what they said, Lance is relatively positive that’s what they said. But Pidge talking about ‘remakes’ and 'source material’ makes it sound like the game has already been released.

Makes it sound like it’s been released for awhile.

But as far as Lance knows, and he’s _pretty_ _positive_ his information is correct,- Killbot Phantasm isn’t supposed to be released for at least another year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooo  
> dam a lotta shit gunna rain down next chap and guess what everyone forgot an umbrella  
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit this got longg like 14k

When Keith told Allura and Shiro he wanted to talk to them, he was going in with his mind already made up.

That he was going to tell Lance no matter what either of them said.

“Keith, I just need you to understand that this isn’t something that Lance will take easy-”

Keith doesn’t need anyone to tell him what he already knows. Honestly he’d still been trying to work out what he would do, what he would say.

But his mind blanked. He didn’t exactly have an instruction manual for delivering bad news to someone.

Terrible. Awful. Atrocious news.

But the truth nonetheless.

And wasn’t that supposed to make things better? All that bullshit he used to read about as kid- about the truth setting people free? Wasn’t that supposed to make him feel better about himself?

It didn’t feel like it. If anything Keith can’t remember a single time where someone telling him the truth ever worked out for him.

His dad dying.

Getting expelled before going to a new school only for it to happen _again_.

His mom being Galra and _alive_.

Keith remembers the grief that would flood through his body whenever someone would sit him down and be “honest” with him. The pain that would build up in the back of his throat and make him feel like he was being choked out by his own body. The moment of deliverance where he feels like he was submerged in ice water, the sting of the cold seeping into him and making his head and stomach ache like he was drowning.

It sucked.

In fact it _fucking sucked_ , and none of times ever got any better.

And it was so mind bendingly unfair that _he_ had to do _that_ to Lance. But it had to be him.

It couldn’t be Shiro. Because Shiro, no matter what Keith has told him about the other boy, didn’t understand Lance- not in the way Keith did.

Allura was in the same boat. Despite her quiet support and eager ears to hear more about Lance’s progress, couldn’t be the person saddled with being the messenger. And even if she was, Keith wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t want her to be the one to have to tell Lance that he’d lost everything just as she had.

Hunk would do it. Keith knows he’s been anxious as of late, guilt creeping up in him, gnawing away at his mind like mice in the walls. And Hunk hadn’t even wanted to deceive Lance in the first place. But Hunk had also been building a soft sort of comradery between him and Lance. And Keith....he couldn’t take that away from the other boy.

Then Pidge. Pidge had wanted to be upfront from the beginning. To tell the truth even if it hurt and maybe in a way they’d been right. Because Keith couldn’t help but wonder if they just ended up hurting Lance more by not telling him.

“I still have to be the one to do it.”

Keith mumbles it out, eyes still cast to the ground as he says it. Shiro and Allura have been pacing in front of him for awhile, they’re the senior officers in this scenario, the social workers, the grieving friend of his father- the ones who feel the obligation to break the news, to shoulder that responsibility.

“Keith-” Shiro hesitates.

“Just leave it to me, let me be the one to tell him.”

He tries not to let his voice give him away. It didn’t sound any different in his ears but Shiro must’ve picked something up, the edge of desperation, a barely audible tremor. Something.

Because he nods. His eyes are conflicted and his brow is furrowed deep but he _nods_.

That doesn’t, however, ease the persisting tightness in Keith’s chest.

XxX

He finds Lance in the halls, wandering with his fists tucked into the pockets of his jacket. He’s doing a strange kicking motion that scuffs his soles against the ground.  He also hasn’t noticed Keith yet even though he’s only a few feet away. His mouth is red and shiny, teeth agitating his lip as he walks closer to Keith, eyes distant and pensive.

It’s not a look Lance makes often. So Keith doesn’t feel at all bad when he lets Lance walk into him. Lance’s forehead knocks into Keith’s nose, letting out a surprised gasp of breath.

It takes a moment for Lance to pull himself together, eyes gaining clarity as he locks his gaze with Keith, comprehension entering them even as he continues stepping on Keith’s toes.

“Keith!” He says with a widening grin, spreading his arms and pulling Keith into a hug as if the two of them hadn’t just seen each other at breakfast. Still, Keith doesn’t resist, resting his hands on Lance’s waist and trying to ignore the sickness boiling in his stomach as Lance’s hands wrap around his neck and he buries his face into Keith’s hair.

“What’s up?” Keith manages to utter out, nose buried into the collar of Lance’s jacket. It smells stale, like mothballs and old fried chicken. Though Keith is certain that it probably was once probably drenched in cologne. But time isn’t particularly kind to things that don’t last.

That thought has him digging his nose deeper into Lance’s jacket, hitting the soft fold of his turtleneck. He thinks he might be able to feel the other boy’s pulse through the fabric. It almost distracts him from the beating of his own heart, pulsing somewhere behind his eardrums. Nervously, Keith wipes his sweaty hands on Lance’s waist hoping his gloves absorb most of it.

“Nothin’” Lance shrugs, jostling Keith’s cheek. “I was hangin’ with Pidge earlier, they’re actually kinda cool ya know?”

Keith doesn’t trust himself to say anything, not yet. So instead he nods in agreement, making a vague sound in the back of his throat.

Lucky for him, Lance has no problems immediately taking hold of the conversation, his arms still thrown over Keith’s neck as he turns him around and begins marching them both in the direction of their rooms.

“Me and Pidge were talkin’ about video games and stuff and I remembered that my boss gave me like a  bunch of old games that I have sitting in a box under my bed-” Lance babbled into Keith’s ears as they stride down the hall.

 _‘Not anymore you don’t’_ He can’t help but think. Keith’s hand around Lance’s waist tightens at the thought. Lance jumps at the action, letting out a surprised _‘oh!’_ before settling down and slowly laying his warm hand over Keith’s.

Lance takes a moment, fingers sliding in the spaces between Keith’s fingers before he continues.

“...So I was like thinkin’ maybe you’d wanna come over and play videogames or something?” Lance starts, tilting his head and briefly touching Keith’s as he slowed down his stride marginally. Keith lets out a shaky breath through his nose.

_‘I can’t come over. Your folks aren’t around anymore’_

“Or you could like watch me play them?” Lance continues, bobbing his head in thought as he occasionally turned his head to brush his cheek against Keith’s forehead. “Like that is _if_ we can get my nintendo away from my little brother because _I swear_ I saved up for that all on my own but my mom told me I have to share with him even though-!”

_‘The last memory your mom and little brother probably ever had of you was seeing your face stamped along with the words ‘missing’ on the side of a milk carton.’_

Keith doesn’t know why that thought formed in his brain. It’s not a good one, and not a path of thinking he wants to take, because the thought makes him ill. Just the brief image flitting through his brain has him instinctively curling his free hand against his stomach, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as he pushes himself closer into Lance’s arms. Seeking some strangely bubbling reassurance though certainly not some he deserves considering _he’s_ the one that basically gets to walk away unscathed.

Lance walks them to Keith’s room, bypassing his own. It’s not often the two hang out in each other’s rooms, preferring the training deck or blue’s cockpit but Lance seems set on having them recline on Keith’s unmade bed. For a moment Keith feels a slight tingle of embarrassment as Lance smoothes over Keith’s blanket before sliding his jacket off and hanging it over on one of Keith’s hooks. He does it with ease and familiarity, like Keith’s room is his room too. Keith watches as Lance toes his sneakers off, kicking them to the side as he jumps onto Keith’s bed like an excited puppy that gets to go up on the furniture.

Lance leans back and rests his head on Keith’s pillow, hands resting on his stomach as he stares up at Keith with furrowed brows, blue eyes pensive and considering.

Lance’s jaw clenches and unclenches like he’s rolling around a sentence somewhere on his tongue but can’t figure out the right way to bend it and get the words out. Keith slowly crawls onto the bed, sitting with his back to the wall as he watches Lance watch him with a weirdly probing gaze. It’s one that has Keith nearly fidgeting, like Lance is looking for something in him and he can’t help but feel inexplicably bare. Like he’s walking around naked while everyone else is clothed.

“Keith-” Lance begins before cutting himself off.

“Yeah?” He asks. Keith’s fingers have a slight nervous tremor in them. It’s one that’s been going on for awhile. It must be conscience, even though for years he’d imagined it would manifest as a little angel on his shoulder that would whisper in his ear _‘don’t loosen the lid of the salt shaker at the table James Griffin usually sits at’._

Now Keith is pretty sure the whispers would sounds more like ‘tell the boy that considers you his friend that he’s missed decades of his life on Earth and that everything he’s ever known, seen, or heard of is gone’.

The thought has Keith tucking his fingers under his thighs, hoping the action would disguise their quivering.

Lance looks like he’s still thinking, lips pursing in visible consideration.

_‘Tell him.’_

Keith tries to ignore the feeling of his organs shifting in agitation.

_‘You told Shiro you’d tell him now tell him.’_

Lance lets out the sound of quiet breathing as he moves up Keith’s pillow, sitting back up to meet Keith’s eyes as he opens his mouth to start speaking.

_‘You owe him that much.’_

“You’re my friend aren’t you, Keith?”

Keith freezes.

Lance’s hands are gripping his knees, fingers clenched on the denim. His forehead is creased, eyes staring at Keith with wide, blue earnestness. Keith finds himself staring at the tip of Lance’s nose, where it curves upwards slightly, for some reason Keith can’t meet his eyes anymore, not when he’s that close.

“Yes.” He responds immediately. He doesn’t even think about it before he answers.

Lance suddenly lets out a slight shuddering breath, shoulders that Keith hadn’t even noticed were tense, losing their tightness. Lance slumps forward in what looks like relief though Keith can’t for the life of him figure out why.

The churning in his stomach is still beating away when Lance lifts his head back up, easy smile on his lips, blue eyes lightened with satisfaction like he’s just solved the final word of a crossword puzzle.

Lance suddenly shifts over closer, plopping down next to Keith and tucking his chin under Keith’s neck.

“I’m happy.” Lance breathes, sigh released with some kind of weight. Keith feels strangely as he sits beside Lance, a heaviness buckling down further in his chest. He knows what he’s said and he meant it.

It’s not the first time he’s had to reaffirm his friendship to Lance, the first time being done awkwardly since he didn’t have any experience to call back upon when Lance looked up at him from the training mat and asked if Keith was his friend.

But this felt different. More significant. It felt...important.

Lance is silent for a moment longer, happiness almost palpably radiating off him as he rests down beside Keith. Another moment passes before Lance slowly reaches for Keith’s hand, not intertwining their fingers like he usually does. It may be a good thing because Keith can still feel them tremoring. Keith’s stomach still hurts.

Lance’s hand wraps loosely around Keith’s wrist, fingers tense against his skin as he holds their joined hands between their bodies.

Lance makes a slightly strained humming sound, like he’s trying to think about something that’s putting him off. Lance is wetting his lips loudly, the smacking echoing in Keith’s ears as Lance shifts slightly, angling his body so he pulls slightly away from Keith.

Close enough to touch, but not to touch.

Keith’s brow furrows slightly. Lance makes another discordant humming sound, slightly louder like he’s trying to drown out the volume of whatever is rolling around in his head.

Keith opens his mouth, pushing down his own discomfort in favor of asking Lance- when the other boy suddenly breaks out.

“Do you wanna go to Prom?”

Keith stills. Emotions momentarily stilling in favor of confusion.

“Wha-”

“I remember you said you didn’t get to go to yours.” Lance cuts him off. Lance’s hand feels clammy, palms moist as his fingers nervously tap Keith’s wrist.

“So I figured-” Lance hesitates, squirming slightly and pushing one of Keith’s pillows onto the floor. “-I figured you could come to mine.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say. Mainly because he hadn’t actually been sure that Lance was serious the other day. Like his talk about sneaking Keith in through the bathroom window and buying matching tuxes. He’d figured it’s just been...talk.

So he’s not at all prepared for how to respond. So he just says the first thing that comes to mind.

“I thought it was a students only thing?”

Lance squirms more, hand practically soaking Keith’s wrist as he breathes out loud, shaky breathes.

“Well yeah…” Lance starts, voice weaker than normal. He still hasn’t turned to look at Keith. “But if...if you’re going with another student you can.”

Keith blanks. Honest to god blanks. There’s white noise in his ears because he blanked.

“I…” Keith doesn’t know what to say because it doesn’t seem real. This doesn’t seem like something that is happening, least of all to him. He almost wants to pinch himself but his wrist is caught in Lance’s weakly trembling paw.

“You could go with me. And they’d let you in.” Lance says it with a certain edge of confidence. The barest sprinkle of certainly.

“You…” Keith trails off. “You don’t have to…”

_‘Do that?’_

_‘Take me?’_

_‘Choose me?’_

“I want to.” Lance asserts, voice stronger as he finally turns his head. Keith meets his eyes. Lance’s mouth is turned down slightly, like he’s preparing himself for dismay as he stares at Keith with something that feels like faith. Keith bites his lip, canines digging into his lower lip as he meets Lance’s unwavering gaze.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out. He hasn’t even realizes he’s said it until Lance’s face suddenly brightens in happiness. Lance lets out a slightly choked wet laugh, like he’d been holding in all his doubt.

Keith feels something begin to swirl in his stomach as he watches Lance’s eyes crease in joy as his sweaty hand finally slides down and intertwines their fingers together.

Lance’s voice is lower, nearly out of breath as he begins talking in low tones to Keith, voice nearly whispered into Keith’s ear like he’s telling him secrets.

Keith feels the beginning of excitement tugging at his own mind when something stops him. When he stops and feels like someone has just slipped an ice cube down the back of his shirt.

“What about being Prom King?” Keith asks before he can filter anything. Lance suddenly pauses, voice cutting off as he was weaving something or another about tickets.

Keith feels something in himself freeze when Lance doesn’t immediately answer. Instead taking a full quiet moment before opening his mouth to respond.

“It’s uh…” Lance starts slowly, like his mouth is numb and he has to say every vowel with caution. “It’s just….that…”

He takes slow breath, a whistle sound ringing in the silent room as he sucks in through clenched teeth.

“Well….it’s just a... _dumb-_ ” At this Lance’s voice hitches, hesitation seeping in slightly. “-plastic crown.”

Lance says it with such slow force that Keith doesn’t believe it for a second. But the words still roll in his head.

_‘It’s just a dumb plastic crown.’_

_‘A dumb plastic crown?’_

_‘That crown is all you’ve talked about for days. It’s all you ever seemed to want.’_

“But.” Keith begins hesitantly. “It makes you happy.”

Lance turns, lips brushing the apples of Keith’s cheeks in what he’s almost certain was just an accident.

“You make me happier.” Lance whispers, warm breath caressing Keith’s ear as he leans in closer.

Keith’s breath hitches, lungs completely seizing when Lance presses a feather light kiss just under his eye.

Lance tucks himself into Keith’s side, tilting his head to rest on Keith’s shoulder and for once, stays silent, letting out an occasional hum as his fingers dance on Keith’s open palm.

_‘I can’t tell him.’_

The realization is cold and hard. Like dumping alcohol on an open wound. Like biting into a popsicle after losing a tooth. Keith’s stomach hurts, the pain radiating out. His fingers start trembling again and Lance must think he’s cold because he reaches for Keith’s blanket, throwing it over both of them before curling in closer.

Lance is soft and warm beside him, ear pressed to Keith’s chest and stroking Keith’s arm in a soft soothing motion like Keith is a scared bunny.

Keith has never felt scummier.

XxX

The thing about Lance is that he likes Keith. He likes everything about Keith.

He likes how nice Keith is to him and how patient he is when they’re training. He likes how Keith teaches him how pilot even though Lance has a tendency to get too excited and try to show off by flying through tight spaces that end with them getting caught by the purple ships chasing after them.

It’s like a playing a better version of Daytona USA so Lance isn’t complaining. Still, he can’t help but feel touched when Keith looks out for him. Mostly because Lance had never had someone who watched his back.

Well at least not to the extent Keith did.

Even when the other boy pins Lance down again and again on the training mats, not giving Lance even an inch when he tries to fire at the other with his bayard, he still feels Keith’s hands grip him with an air of care.

Keith wouldn’t hurt him.

That much Lance knows. That much he believes.

Two things in fact- Keith wouldn’t hurt him, so that means he wouldn’t lie to him.

Lance had been thrown off at first. Pidge’s words striking something in him Something that felt like hesitation and worry knocking around in his head. Rationally he tried to dismiss it, that it was probably just lingering paranoia, leftover from when he’d had ‘freezer brain’.

And it wasn’t as if people didn’t make mistakes. It seemed ridiculous, when he thought about it, to have gotten so close to worked up over a small detail.

But that had been eased away. Like wrinkles on a dress shirt by a warm iron.

It’s not like Keith had sworn any kind of oath, or gotten on his knees and proclaimed loyalty like a knight in shining armour.

But he promised he was Lance’s friend.

So that was enough for Lance to believe him, because Keith’s word was worth a lot to him.

Keith himself was worth more. Or at least that had been how Lance had thought of it.

Keith makes Lance _feel_ good, therefore that means Keith _is_ good.

It seemed like such a juvenile revelation and definitely one that would get him ripped on by his older brothers when they found out about Keith. But Lance couldn’t bring himself to care.

Not about his parents. Not about his brothers. Not about his classmates.

So long as Keith was there- Lance was happy. And he didn’t need some lame title or reward so he could realize that. Because once he showed up with Keith, Lance knew he would be out of the running anyway.

He wasn’t stupid, he’d had to laugh and listen along to locker room talk at his school no matter how it made him feel. He saw how rumors like that could knock anyone straight down (if they weren’t already there) whether or not they were true.

But Lance only had a few months left of school. Just a few.

And once he was home, he could do whatever he wanted. He could sneak Keith into the cornfields with him. He could take Keith to the arcade and play ski ball or air hockey if Keith didn’t want to fork over the quarters to play street fighter.  And he could take Keith to Prom. Get them matching corsages with little twigs of baby’s breath to pin to their lapels.

And no one would be able to say a goddamn thing about it, at least not to their faces.

Keith’s hands opened almost instinctively whenever Lance was around, finger curling for Lance to slip between them whenever they had more than a five minute break.

It was good.

Things were good.

Until suddenly, they weren’t.

The alarm that screeched through the training deck had Lance nearly tripping over his feet in surprise. Keith on the other hand, actually did. It was sharp and piercing, like an air horn that was on helium. No lights flashed in the hall, though the sharpness of the sound was bad enough to make a deaf person at least stand at attention.

“What is _that_?” Lance tried asking, vocal cords vibrating weirdly with the sound. Keith was already up, walking quickly and gripping Lance by the shoulders, hurriedly urging him out of the training room and into the hall.

“We need to go.” He says quickly, not offering anything else as he wrapped a hand around Lance’s waist.

“What?” Lance tries yelling back, struggling to keep up as Keith lead him quickly through the halls, the bare edge of panic slowly beginning to seep into him when he didn’t get an answer.

“Is this like a fire drill or something? Do we have to go somewhere?”

That’s Lance’s best guess he has so far. Loud ringing alarm? Immediate and quick evacuation?

“Kei-”

“Keith!” A yell from the end of the hall cuts Lance off. The sound of quick steps approaching from behind has Lance trying to look over his shoulder even though Keith tries to get him to move faster. A tuft of white hair is the first thing to come under Lance’s gaze as they quickly turn a corner, a route that Lance suddenly realizes is in the direction of his and Keith’s rooms.

“Keith we have to-”

“I know!”

Keith’s response is sudden, nearly a growl as they turn into the hall where their rooms are located.

“I thought the Blade of Marmora was supposed to be acting as our safeguard, I thought we requested an entire cycle.” Keith’s voice is coupled with the twitching of his hands where they’re resting on Lance’s waist.

Lance makes a sound caught somewhere between confusion and concern.

“I know.” Shiro breathes out, coming up beside them, brows furrowing in concern when he meets Lance’s eyes. “I thought so too, Allura just got word a few ticks ago. We need to wormhole out.”

Keith makes some deep huffing breath, like something is stuck in his throat. Lance is just about to ask when Keith suddenly spins him around, hands gently gripping Lance’s shoulders when he’s flipped around.

“Lance.” Keith breathes, voice coming out in sharp gasps like he’s short of breath. Lance feels his brows begin to furrow in concern. “I need you to go in your room and stay there, okay?”

“Wha-?” Lance asks, confusion that he felt bubbling earlier suddenly flaring up. “No man. Like just tell me what’s going on-”

The hall they’re standing in suddenly rocks, tilting before settling back down. A heavy groan of metal and something dense that almost sounds like they’re underwater pulses in Lance’s ear. It’s a feeling that has Lance’s back tensing in distress, like his body is recalling something his mind can’t quite remember. A gross metal taste creeps up in the back of Lance’s throat and he nearly gags.

Another rumble pulses under their feet and Lance feels like a bucket of ice water has just been tipped over his head. The realization hits him like a dodgeball to the face.

An earthquake.

 _Fuck_.

He went through a small one when he’d still been in band and they went to California for a competition. Nearly shit his fucking pants in terror when his fifth floor hotel room began to shake.

Keith steadies his hands back on Lance’s shoulder just as Lance is about to ask if they should be getting under a sturdy table or stand in a doorway or something because it’s been awhile since he read up on California’s earthquake and forest fire safety. Smokey the Bear doesn’t exactly do house calls anyway.

“Lance- just go in your room I’ll be back soon, I swear.” Keith says it with a strange urgency and Lance is nearly too stunned to notice that Keith is backing him into his room. It’s not until the door suddenly slides shut in front of him that he startles, stretching his hands out and laying them on the door in front of him like Keith was still there and he was looking for comfort.

Lance lets out a slow breath, pressing himself closer to the door when the odd shake and rumble rolls through his room.

Keith hadn’t said where he was going.

Shiro hadn’t either.

If this was an earthquake did this mean they were helping?

Should _Lance_ be helping?

Before he really registers it, his hand is pressing against the scanner, the metal door sliding open without a sound. When Lance peeks into the hallway, it’s empty. Keith and Shiro are long gone and he has no idea where they could possibly be.

He tries stepping out carefully, almost afraid that the roof would collapse down on him. He looks down both ends of the hallway, but neither Keith or Shiro pop out.

Slowly, Lance begins walking in the direction of the main deck. Usually that’s where someone is- whether it’s Pidge or one of the Alteans. He’d even run into Shiro there a few times on the nights he couldn’t sleep and decided to take a walk around Princess Allura’s house.

Now, Keith told him to stay put. Told him that he should stay in his room until further notice.

But if there was one thing that Smokey the Bear taught him, it was that _he_ could prevent forest fires.

Though there probably wasn’t an actual fire. And also no forest. But Lance figured that it was probably the thought that counted.

XxX

When Lance finally turned into the main deck, he...well he actually wasn’t sure what he should’ve been expecting.

Keith had run off before Lance had a chance to ask any questions or get any answers. He’d been panicked and that alone had put Lance off because in all the time Lance had known the other boy- he always seemed so...adjusted. Not exactly at ease because Keith had a way about him where Lance got the impression that the other boy just straight up _never_ relaxed.

Still, emergencies were emergencies. And if Keith was having one, well Lance wanted to be there.

Wanted to help if he could.

It’s only when the main deck’s doors slid open that he thought, just how in over his head he may have been.

It’s almost entirely empty.

No Keith.

No Shiro.

The only one there is Coran who seemed more preoccupied with pounding something away at the blue-glass like screens pulled up in front of him.

Lance was still trying to get used to the ones attached to his station. Pidge kept trying to teach him though Lance sometimes suspected they were slowly getting more and more aggravated. He hadn’t quite worked up the courage to tell them that he really preferred using the screens in Blue than the ones on the deck.

At the front of the room is a big projection, like someone’s watching a security camera the size a movie theatre screen. Coran seems oddly focused on it.

That’s when Lance stops and actually _looks_ at what’s playing.

Other ships, ones that look just like Blue are flying in frenzied paths. For a second he sees a flash and a pull in his stomach has him instinctively locking eyes on the beam of hot, blue light exploding from the mouth of one of the lions that suddenly pops up on the screen.

Blue.

His Blue.

Dozens of fireworks explode around the path of the beam.

Those are ships. They’re like a swarm of wasps chasing the Lions around while making their own shots.

Blue and the others are desperately trying to swerve around the horde of ships overwhelming them. Bigger ones are cruising in closer. They’re bigger than any of the Lions and Lance can’t help but take a step back at how...intimidating they are. They’re sharp, with slick designs that glow an ominous color. They’re nothing like the comparatively clunky designs of ships from Star Wars.

Did that mean those were the bad guys? Or were they...the good guys? Did that make Lance one of the bad guys? The thought has an uncomfortable feeling rolling around in his stomach.

The ship’s bows begin to glow like purple ores.

The glowing light reminds Lance of something. It feels almost _familiar_ but not quite the right kind, almost like it was off.

One of the purple beams is growing bigger. A sudden burst, explosion of color that Lance can _hear_ in his own head is streamlined directly towards them. The surge has Lance letting out a sharp gasp, the breath practically squeezed out of his lungs in his surprise as he takes startled steps backwards like he can get under cover before the beam hits them.

Coran whips his head around at the sound, lavender eyes going wide in shock when he accidentally makes eye contact with Lance. Coran’s mouth falls open, mouth forming a question just as the beam makes impact and knocks them both down to the ground with the force of the blow.

Lance goes down hard on his knees, body almost locked in a stunned stupor. Distantly he hears Coran climbing back up to his feet, his typically gentle voice edged with something urgent.

“Princess!” He yells as Lance slowly starts to get back up, his thighs trembling from the force of the hit. He has no idea how Coran has recovered so fast. “The particle barrier is weakening! We won’t be able to take this for much longer!”

Lance grabs onto the helm of Hunk’s station, pulling himself up as he tries to shake out the vibrations pulsing in his calves. He can see the blue hexagonal shield in the background of the screen. When he’d first come in it had been a bright blue, now it had dimmed lower, like a dying glowstick. One of the large ships begins firing again and Lance tenses in preparation. Instead of a beam, small objects begin assaulting the shield’s surface. They look like small triangle torpedo-like objects that make it through when the shield suddenly dissolves.

One of the screens suddenly split. Images of Allura, Shiro, Keith and the others are suddenly up in the place of the purple battleships. Lance feels his mouth go dry at the sight of Keith, his red trimmed helmet and tinted visor laser focused. He doesn’t even seem to notice Lance.

“Coran we’ll try clearing a path through, they’ve got us surrounded.” Shiro says, his grey eyes narrowed in concentration. Lance takes a slow seat into Hunk’s station, gripping the arm rests in a white knuckle grip as the Castle trembles again. “Get ready and make sure Lance’s room is stabilized for the jump!”

Lance’s head whips up at the sound of his name, eyes locking back on the screen. Just as he’s about to open his mouth, Pidge’s eyes briefly glance over at him before suddenly flinging their head back to him, jaw falling open in slight disbelief.

“Lance?!” They yell, voice pitched with a blanket of astonishment. Pidge’s eyes flicker back to Coran, brown eyes narrowed in what looked like accusation.

“Coran, what’s Lance doing on the main deck!”

Pidge says it less like a question and Lance can’t help the slight hurt the bubbles up in his chest at Pidge’s words. As if Lance wasn’t supposed to be there, like he didn’t belong there.

Lance doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Keith’s shoulders tense, his eyes flickering over to him through his screen. His brows furrow, question in the light of his eyes as more explosions sound behind him.

“Lance what’re you-”

“Coran!” Allura suddenly yells, cutting Keith off. “There’s an opening beyond that destroyed Galra cruiser , summon the wormhole!”

Any questions or accusations are put on hold when Coran dismisses the feed, laying his hands down on the glowing orbs beside him. Pidge and Hunk had tried explaining to him that it was to steer the ship. He hadn’t understood at the time and their technical talk hadn’t helped at all.

Lance tightens his hold on Hunk’s armrests as a sudden pulse of white exploded in front of them. He almost wishes he had a safety rail in front of him, like the ones that lock down when you get on a ferris wheel.

The Castle is jostled with a weird pull and Lance swears he feels his ears pop like the pressure of an airplane cabin has changed. Lance breathes slowly and deeply though his nose, eyes sliding closed as the main deck continues to shake and tremble. There’s a nervous feeling eating away at his stomach, the same feeling he gets when he knows that a rollercoaster is slowly chugging away to the apex and the dread is finally setting in.

Lance keeps his eyes shut, nails beginning to hurt from how hard he’s digging them into the metal of the station.

He doesn’t open them until Coran lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. He peers up, brows still furrowed. Coran’s lavender eyes are staring down at him, gaze concerned as he kneels down beside Lance, gloved hand a comforting weight on Lance’s arm.

“My boy, are you alright?”

He whispers it lowly, almost under his breath and Lance can’t help but feel thankful when he begins working his jaw, cringing at the ache throbbing from his ears. Slowly, he nods, not quite trusting himself to speak yet.

Coran doesn’t seem to believe him, brows still furrowed as the turquoise marks on his cheeks move with his concerned gaze.

The older Altean rests a steadying hand on Lance’s back as he slowly pushed himself up. Lance’s mouth feels strangely dry as he takes slow steps around the older man.

“Mr. Coran-” Lance begins before cutting himself off.

“Just Coran is fine, my boy.” The other man offers. Lance nods in absent-minded agreement.

“Coran.” Lance corrects. He opens his mouth, a question almost forming before letting it click back shut. There’s a slight unease tugging at him, a nervousness he doesn’t really understand and no longer thinks is from the jolting of the castle. His fingers are tapping at his thigh guards, almost itching to summon his bayard just so he can have something to fiddle with. He suddenly recalls that he couldn’t even if he wanted to, it’s Allura’s day with the bayard- the two of them having worked out a schedule to switch on the days Keith wanted him to try armed combat.

Coran is still staring at him with concern as Lance begins tapping his leg, a leftover nervous tick that he never managed to get rid of. He’s not sure why. He feels odd about somethings, the castle’s alarm and attack having thrown him off but even then he should’ve been able to handle things like that.

Keith _had_ mentioned things like this. But he’d never gone into much detail. He’d noticed they skimmed over things that were about the ‘Galra’. He figured he was being a good friend by noticing but never saying anything. Though maybe that was his fault, the others always seemed to forget that there were just somethings Lance _didn't_ know- things like technology and fancy alien jargon.

So it standed to reason that he didn't know much about the Galra.

That’s what Allura had called it. A ‘Galra cruiser’, right? Those were the guys that were attacking them. And there were a lot of them.

Like a lot, _a lot._

They looked like clouds of mosquitoes flying around the Lions and going after the Castle. Lance had seen how serious Coran and the others had been on the screens. He saw how Keith lost all his humor when the alarms started ringing.

Clearly those Galra guys put his friends on edge. And if he was being honest, they put him on edge too. Even if they were gone and Lance couldn’t see them, they’d popped out of nowhere before.

If they’d done that could they do it again?

Would it be worse next time?

There’d been a lot of them and there were only seven of them. Lance hadn’t even done anything while the whole thing had been going down.

Why were they attacking anyway?

What did they want?

The sick feeling spread and Lance almost wished that he hadn’t stood up so quickly.

“Coran,” Lance began slowly, turning to face the ginger Altean. “Who’re those-”

The sound of the doors to the main deck sliding open interrupted him. Lance looked up just in time to meet Keith’s eyes who was halfway frozen in the doorway.

“ _Lance_.” He said breathlessly, feet carrying him forward where he tugged Lance to him gently, hands and fingers touching and stroking Lance’s hands.

“What are you doing here I told you to stay in your room.”

It doesn’t sound like a scolding but the words make him feel like it’s one. He’s not sure how to reply so he opts to shrug and hopes it’s enough. Keith’s hands are curled around his wrists and help to soothe Lance’s stomach and uneasy gut.

“Keith,” Lance says lowly, voice shaky even though he wishes it wasn’t. He has questions, ones that he doesn’t know the answer to- some of which he’s not even sure how to phrase. But Keith was honest with him, was good to him. He could tell Lance what was happening.

Because if Lance really stopped and tooked time to absorb, it all just felt like it would be too much. The only aliens he had come to know were nice to him. Allura had even let Lance peek at the small chest of jewels she had in her room. The rings he had tried on were a pretty lilac that reminded Lance of Keith’s eyes.

But those other aliens didn’t seem so nice.

Slowly, the other paladins trickle in. Allura especially is watching him with a concerned gaze that practically mirrors Coran’s.

Lance shifts from foot to foot, his fingers stretching and flexing in Keith’s palms because he’s not sure what to do with them. A nervous jittery energy is still flowing through him and makes him feel strangely bared, uncomfortable with something that he can’t fully manage to pin down.

For a moment, he almost wishes his dad was there. Even if it was to just rest a heavy, calloused hand on his neck and murmur for him to ‘calm down’.

Lance feels young. Younger than he’s ever felt. Like he’s stumbling around in something he doesn’t understand. It makes him feel bad about himself.

For another moment, Lance wishes his mom was there too.

He’s been gone so long, he hadn’t even realized it.

How long had it been?

Weeks?

A month?

Two months?

He always figured that when he finally got home, any anger or awaiting punishment could be soothed over by Shiro. Because Shiro _looked_ like the kind of person his parents would lend their ear to. But now Lance just feels an odd distress. One that has him aching for his parents, it’s something he hasn’t felt since he started high school

“Keith do-” He starts, pulling his arms out Keith’s soft hold and wrapping them around his neck. Keith’s hands settle on Lance’s waist and makes it look like they’re slow dancing, just without any music.

“-do you think we could stop by my house real quick?”

He says it without really thinking. Keith’s shoulder’s tense under his hands and it’s then that Lance realizes that they hadn’t actually _talked_ about Lance going home.

It was something they’d just danced around. Sure he’d made little injections about home. Things like picking out a tux from the boutique down the street from the arcade. Or bringing Keith over to meet his family.

But they never actually _talked_ about when Lance would be going back home.

He’d always just assumed it would happen.

“I just- I mean I haven’t seen my parents in a while-”

Hunk shifts in his peripheral vision, letting out a muffled sound that seems choked.

“-And well they’re probably getting worried about me, ya know since I’ve been gone so long-”

Shiro starts removing his helmet on his other side, running his fingers through his fringe in a move that seems almost troubled.

“-Plus it seems like a good idea? I mean from the looks of it, some people are giving you a hard time.”

Keith’s avoiding his eyes. His fingers are clenched tightly in Lance’s waist.

“Keith?”

Keith still won’t meet his eyes.

“C’mon man it’ll be great, you can meet my parents. I know you’re kinda nervous about that and you get all awkward when I bring it up, but-”

“I can’t.”

The sudden statement has Lance swallowing back his words. Keith’s biting down on his lips, thumbs pressing into Lance’s abdomen.

“Whattdya mean, man? They’ll love you! You’re great!”

Lance thought the words would be reassuring, instead they seem like they hurt. Keith pulls his hands back, tugging them towards his own chest where he begins tugging at locks of hair framing his face.

“ _Fuck_ .” He suddenly hisses out. Lance flinches in surprise. One of Keith’s hands pull down the skin of cheek, leaving behind red marks as his other hand is on the verge of ripping out the clumps of hair he’s gripping.” _Fuck_ ,” He repeats, stronger.  “This wasn’t- I was- this _isn’t-_ ”

Lance feels concern begin to bubble in him, filling his chest as he tries stepping forward, arms placating.

“Keith, I-It’s okay. You don’t have to, I swear I won’t make you.”

Lance tries looking to the others for help. Allura is fidgeting. Shiro is watching Keith with brows furrowed in concern. Pidge isn’t even looking at him, their eyes locked to the ground. Hunk looks like he’s on the verge of tears and Lance feels his concern double in an instant.

“Hunk, buddy what’s wrong?”

Hunk trembles as Lance is trying to soothe Keith, hands brushing away the bangs falling over his face.

“You didn’t tell him?”

Lance looks up, startled. Pidge has pulled their gaze off the floor. They’re still not meeting Lance’s eyes. In fact they’re not meeting anyone’s.

“Pidge.” Shiro says, warningly. Lance’s never heard that tone from him before. Pidge clearly hasn’t either if their  slight flinch has anything to do with it.

Still it doesn’t seem like enough to deter them.

“Shiro told us you would tell him.”

Lance doesn’t like the sound of that. It makes it sound like there was something important that should’ve reached his ears. Something that had to do with him going home.

Keith makes a sound of pure frustration but muffles it under his palm.

“I was!” He finally answers, uncertainty in every line of his body. “I _was_.” He repeats insistently.

Lance notes that Keith’s voice sounds thicker. Like he’s holding back crying. It makes Lance feel sick, like he should be doing something because Keith sounded _so upset._ But he’s never been that upset, not in front of Lance so what’s he going to do-?

“I was gunna but then- I- I- _couldn’t_ ,  I tried- I was-” Keith is tripping over words, slurring them slightly like his brain can’t process what his mouth is saying.

Lance doesn’t like this.

Shiro takes a step forward, hands raised in a calming way- the same way he approached Lance when they first met.

“Keith-” Shiro begins.

“But I _couldn’t_ because I didn’t want to make him _cry_ , because I knew he’d be sad but I didn't want to make him cry-”

Lance _really_ doesn’t like this. He feels something settle in the pit of his stomach. He feels the breath leave his body, exiting completely.

“-And I just kept thinking about how happy he was when he talked about home and I- I just couldn’t do it-”

Lance feels like he’s submerged in honey, his limbs feel heavier, his feet feel glued to the ground. He can’t move. Lance’s mind goes back to Pidge in the dining room the other day.

“I wanna go home.”

He says it suddenly, sharply. Keith falls quiet. Shiro freezes.

“Keith, I wanna go home.” His voice trembles this time. Like the hurricane of emotions swirling in his chest are all trying to manifest through his voice.

“Lance,” Shiro begins, eyes filled with- what is that? Pity? Regret? Sadness?

“Keith, I wanna go home _right now_.” He says this with as much force as he can muster. Keith doesn’t look up. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Keith, _please_.” Lance doesn’t know why he’s suddenly pleading. But his voice is  trembling and he feels a chill that’s working it’s way through his body and he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like how stupid thoughts that he buried are slowly floating to the surface the longer Keith stays silent.

Lance takes a step closer to the other boy who remains still as a statue. Lance tucks his head in close to Keith’s neck. He can’t hide the trembling in his body as he lays his palms on the chest of Keith’s armour.

“Keith please, just for a minute- I just want to see them. I haven’t seen them in so long-”

“I can’t.”

“ _But why?_ ” Lance burts out, something spilling out of him. It feels like so many things mixed together he can’t make heads or tails of what he’s feeling all he knows is he’s upset and _it hurts._ His knees feel weak and he’s practically pouring himself into Keith who’s doing his best to hold him up but his hands don’t feel the same like they did before.

“Lance,” someone begins hesitantly behind him. It sounds like Allura. “Earth, Earth may not be as you remember it-”

“What are you talking about?!” Lance shoots back, pulling out of Keith’s arms as best he can. His eyes are getting blurry. He can’t lock eyes with her. His eyes are beginning to sting, his forehead is furrowing no matter how much he tries to get it to soothe back out. “I was just there!”

“Lance,” Shiro starts, eyes staring at him understanding- like he feels what Lance is feeling.

It pisses Lance off.

“When we found you, we had _no idea_ -” Shiro stops himself. “No idea, how long it had been for you.”

Lance feels a numbness begin to set in, starting in his fingertips. He feels like the air is getting too thin, he can’t fill his lungs with enough.

“But I was just _there_ . _I can prove it”_ He says again because _he was_ . He can remember what he had for dinner. It was roasted chicken with carrots and corn because there’s _always_ corn. He can remember what homework he has due. The posters he has taped to his wall. His parents. His address.

“No Lance, that’s not it” Shiro says, voice soft, lowered like he’s trying not to scare him. It’s only then that Lance realizes he’s shaking like a leaf.

 _“Yes it is!”_ His voice is thick and he feels something wet begin to roll down his cheeks. He’s crying. He’s crying in front of all these people like a baby. Humiliation begins warming his cheeks as he raises a hand to try and hide his face. He tries backing up but walks into Keith who tries to steady him.

“Lance-” Keith begins, voice still tinged with something.

Lance pulls away without another word, tugging his shoulders away from Keith and taking steps away until he’s backed into Hunk’s control panel. He pretends not to hear the sharp intake of breath from Keith.

“You’re taking me home.” Lance wheezes out, voice scratchy as he tries to rub away the tears that won’t stop spilling out. “ _All_ _of you_ are taking me home.”

He has a runny nose and he feels like a kid again, trying to use the plates of his armour to clear it. No one is moving and Lance musters up enough courage to look back up.

They’re all staring at him.

Varying level of hesitation.

_It’s pissing Lance off._

He-he needs someone on his side. _He needs someone on his side._

“Hunk,” He starts, voice shaky through the hiccups he can’t quell. “Hunk tell them _I want to go home._ ”

Hunk swallows, brown eyes brimming with pain as he struggles to meet Lance’s eyes.

“ _Hunk_.”

Is that what’s happening? None of them are going to help him now? Hurt bursts in Lance’s chest like a firecracker and he tries to muffle the  convulsive gasp that almost leaves him. He can’t breathe.

“Pidge. Pidge please-”

Pidge is so small. Their limbs are like the little branches of Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree. They’re younger than Lance by who knows how many years and Lance is two seconds away from getting on his knees and begging. Even if they may not like him they at least have to see what this is doing to him.

Pidge is frozen, wide brown eyes staring at Lance like they can’t comprehend what’s happening. Their mouth is opening and closing like they can’t decide what to do with it.

He can hear steps approaching him and if it’s Keith he swears to _fuck all_ he’s going to lose it. Because them not telling him is one thing.

If he tried, if he really, really tried- he could understand why they wouldn’t tell him.

But Keith?

 _Keith_?

That hurt. That really, actually _hurt_.

“Lance,” Shiro breathes, hesitant hands resting on his shoulders and Lance hopes that at least Shiro is going to help him. How even though he’d been awkward around the other man because he didn’t know how to take him being part robot- that at least Shiro had his back.

“-Things are different on Earth-”

And like that. In just a few words Shiro has ripped away the last bit of hope that Lance had.

“-So much has changed while you’ve been gone and...your family, your home-”

_Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. If you’re going to take everything at least let me keep this._

“-We...we don’t know if they’re even...if we’re going to be able to find them for you-”

_No._

“I-I’m sorry Lance-”

_No.no.no.nononononono._

“-None of us, would ever want to hurt you-”

_This-this wasn’t fair._

“This isn’t _fair_.”

Shiro takes the black material of his suit and begins trying to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. His nose is running too. Shiro tries wiping that away as well. Lance can’t find the strength to shove him away like he wants to. Can’t find the strength to get up and leave, to go to his room and never come out.

Shiro begins wrapping Lance in his arms, his biceps covering Lance’s face from the others and intentional or not, Lance can’t help but feel the drop of appreciation he feels for that. It’s only when Shiro lays a heavy hand on Lance’s neck that he snaps.

Because his dad did that. Place a warm, reassuring weight on his neck, telling him what he didn’t with his words.

_‘I’m here.’ ‘I’m here.’_

Lance shoves his way out of Shiro’s hold. Shiro drops his hands away like he’s been burned, he takes two quick steps back like he’s trying to give Lance space.

His dark eyes are remorseful, like feels all the pain that’s burning in Lance’s heart.

Lance’s lip is trembling, his breath is coming out in heavy short gasps, he can’t breathe. Tears are falling like Lance’s eyes are broken faucets.

He can’t see.

They’re all staring at him, standing there staring at him. He sees blurry red armour begin coming closer.

Lance is pissed.

Just as Keith is within arms length, Lance feels something in him break. He slaps Keith’s outstretched hands away. Recoils away from the others and begins stumbling back to the door.

“I-I-” He can’t talk. He’s breathing too hard. Hyperventilating. He’s hyperventilating.

“I-I hate you.”

The words leave him in a choked croak. He doesn’t know who he’s talking to. All of them. He’s talking to all of them. He feels a wad of cotton begin forming in his throat.

“I-I _hate_ you.” He repeats, stumbling back.

Someone takes a shaky intake of breath.

_“I hate you!!”_

Lance turns, feet carrying him as far and as fast as he can get from the main deck. He doesn’t hear footsteps behind him.

No one follows him.

Lance has no idea what he would do if someone did.

XxX

Keith doesn’t sleep anymore.

He’s pretty sure no one’s had an easy night of rest either.

It isn’t until Coran wordlessly pours them all Altean melatonin tea at dinner that they’re all able to get a few hours of rest.

Everytime Keith closes his eyes, all he can hear is Lance’s voice swimming around in his head.

 _‘I hate you._ **_I_ ** _hate you. I_ **_hate_ ** _you. I hate_ **_you_ ** _.’_

“Was I...was I wrong to force you guys to tell him?”

Pidge sneaks into his room one night, not even mentioning how Hunk is spread out on his mattress on the floor beside him.

“No.” Keith replies. Pidge has been curling in on themselves lately. Shiro says it’s because they feel guilty. Keith thinks it’s because they don’t know if they _should_ feel guilty.

Pidge is silent for a while before speaking again.

“He cried.”

Keith’s chest tightens at the memory. At the heaving sobs that Lance kept trying to hold back. At the wet voice he kept trying to use to speak.

“I know.”

Pidge crawls into Keith’s bed, laying down opposite of him. Keith doesn’t even try to hold onto his blanket as Pidge pulls it to themselves, wrapping themselves up like it’s going to snow during the night. Pidge lets out a shaky sigh. Keith pretends not to hear the sniffle they immediately try to hide.

“...He hates me.” Pidge whispers.

“He hates _me_.” Keith replies. The words reignite the simmering pain in Keith’s chest. He closes his eyes and hopes that Lance will have mercy for just a few minutes.

_‘I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.’_

XxX

No one’s seen Lance in days. He hasn’t been to his room since the day he ran out of the main deck.  Keith knows because he spent the entire afternoon listening for movement. Hoping that Lance would say something, would call for him.

He doesn’t.

Because he’s not there.

Hunk is the one to raise concern about Lance eating. Lance hasn’t been to dinner in three days.

“He must be starving.” Hunk says nervously. His eyes are bloodshot and his hands shake with a nervous tremor. They’re forced to eat pure goo one night because Hunk mixes up an Altean spice with a powdered metal alloy.

It’s only when they check the kitchen logs that they realize that someone’s been going into the kitchens in the middle of the night and siphoning water pouches and packets of food goo rations from the kitchen that they all allow themselves to relax.

Hunk is still upset and Keith listens to him toss and turn every night.

Originally he hadn’t been keen on Hunk moving into his room. But one look at his tired eyes and quiet explanation had him leaving his door unlocked for anyone that might follow afterwards.

“Just- I wanna say sorry. When he comes back to his room, you-you’ll hear it.”

Keith says nothing when Hunk lays his blanket out on the cold floor. He doesn’t even look at the mattress that suddenly appears in his room a day later.

XxX

“I scare him don’t I?”

Keith blearily looks up from where he’s spread out on the training deck. Shiro is sitting a few feet away, eyes dim as he stares down at the ground.

Keith keeps coming back in the blind hope that Lance will wander in one day. That he’ll want to try his moves out on the gladiator. The ones Keith taught him.

Keith stays silent. He doesn’t think Shiro was looking for an actual response.

“I-I tried to hug him and...I scared him.”

Shiro’s voice is shaky.

Keith recalls how he’d tried to reach out for Lance, concern overtaking everything else when he saw Lance struggling to breathe. He remembers the sharp sting of his hands when Lance slapped them away.

“If he’s scared of you then he’s terrified of me.”

Shiro falls quiet and Keith turns on his side, pressing his ear to the deck and listening to the gentle mechanical hum of the training deck.

XxX

It’s the middle of the night when Keith hears movement in Lance’s room. He hears the soundless slide of his door and the rustling of someone walking around.

Before he can think on it he bolts out of bed, his legs carry him to Lance’s room where the door slides open for him. He’s two steps in when he makes eye contact with a startled Allura.

He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face.

Allura is in her nightclothes, the mice are tucked into her thick white curls, small bodies breathing slow even breathes.

At least someone in the castle can still sleep.

Allura’s greeting is low and tired. Her Altean marks have dulled and Keith wonders if they have something to do with how she’s feeling.

It takes him a moment before he notices the bayard in her hand. She catches him staring and her lips quirk into a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“It was his turn with the bayard yesterday but...he didn’t come for it.” Her admission is quiet, whispered. Her eyes trail to his neatly made bed. It hasn’t been touched in days. Her fingers trail over the collection of delicate pots of powders and creams on his desk.

Keith knows they were gifts from her, Lance had been so excited to show them to him.

Keith nods, backing up slowly because this was not something he could help her with. The Blue Paladins shared something together, an understanding, a connection.

That’s not something he even fully understood yet, much less could offer his assistance in.

Keith returns wordlessly to his bed and lays awake for the rest of the night.

He never hears Allura leave.

XxX

Coran finds Lance hours after he’s run out of the main deck.

Somehow Lance manages to find himself down to the very bowels of the Castle. He’s poking his head in and out of rooms when he comes across one that’s filled with lush green grass, he lingers for just a moment before turning to leave.

It’s the quiet ‘moo’ that pulls him back.

Curiously, he peeks in, finding his way to a small metal hut housing a dairy cow. She has a small pink bow on her tail and is too busy chewing up cud to even notice him. Stacks of straw are piled into her hut and Lance carefully steps over them to get closer to the gently breathing animal.

He’s right beside her, watching her sides go in and out with long even breathes before her eyes flicker over to him.

“Hi.” He greets shortly, offering a short wave. She ignores him and goes back to grazing. Lance tries not to feel hurt.

Her eyes are bright and clear with no mucus or discharge gathering in the corners. Her coat is smooth and shiny, practically silky.

Lance runs his fingers along her back, noting happily how she doesn’t seem to have any ticks or pesky flies buzzing around her. Her ears are perked up, pointed at him the closer he gets to her head.

She’s healthy, clean, and eating well. His dad would be proud because corn farmer or not, Lance’s dad kept his knowledge about basic farm animal health up to date. Lance’s smile falls at the thought, pulling his hands away and backing into the hut full of straw.

He stares at the dairy cow for a full minute, her eyes occasionally glancing over him before going back to her lawn of grass.

Lance tries to ignore seeing the irony in his situation.

Cow.

Alien abduction.

Him, son of a corn farmer. Lives next to a cornfield.

Alien abduction.

“They got you too huh?”

The cow ignores him, pretty pink bow occasionally flicking along with her tail. Lance’s eyes lock on the small nubs of horns peeking out of her head.

Slowly, a small smile works its way onto his face.

“I’m going to call you Clarabelle.”

She doesn’t even give him another glance.

It’s how Coran finds him hours later, hauling a large bucket full of water for Clarabelle’s empty trough. Lance freezes just as Coran walks through the doorway. His lavender eyes are unsurprised when he meets Lance’s startled gaze.

“My boy,” He begins gently. Lance shifts awkwardly, moving his weight from foot to foot as he avoids looking into Coran’s eyes.

“Hi, Mr. Coran.” He greets softly.

“It’s just Coran, my boy.” Coran softly reminds him. Lance’s hands tighten on the bucket.

“Hi, Mr. Coran.” He repeats.

Coran’s eyes dim and Lance can’t help help the wave of guilt that washes over him.

“Sorry.” He quickly whispers. Coran shakes his head, waving away Lance’s apology.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, young Lance.”

Lance doesn’t know why his heart aches just the slightest when Coran doesn’t call him ‘my boy’ again. It’s like something his uncles would call him whenever they’d come over to help dad with the harvest.

“Well I’m sorry anyway.” He mumbles, fixing his hold on the bucket and tipping it into Clarabelle’s trough. Gratefully, she begins drinking, taking long deep laps. She doesn’t even snort when Lance gently rubs his hand between her horns.

“I see you’ve found our Kaltenecker.” Coran observes stepping in closer. Lance’s brows furrow.

“That’s a terrible name.” Lance says.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Clarabelle is much nicer, my baby brother watches her on TV all the time.” At the mention of his brother Lance suddenly loses all bubbling humor. He turns his back to Coran.

Still Coran makes a noise of understanding as Lance returns to fluffing up a pile of hay to make a decent bed for the night.

Coran doesn’t ask him any questions, he doesn’t even try to convince Lance to open up. He just sits silently with him and occasionally tries to make conversation with Clarabelle who only responds with ‘moos’.

Coran still nods like he understands her.

Somehow Lance ends up falling asleep on top of the pile of hay he’s pushed to one corner of the hut. He wakes up on the roof of the hut, laying on a bed mat and covered with a blanket.

When Coran returns the next day, Lance feels his chest fill with something warm when Coran offers him a box filled with water pouches and food goo packets that taste like butterscotch.

XxX

“Do you think they looked for me?” Lance can’t help but ask one day. It’s a thought that’s been bubbling up in the back of his mind.

He’s tried as best he could to remember everything he’d done and said the day he disappeared. He remembered the rope made out of bedsheets and pillowcases that he’d left dangling out of his bedroom window.

He wonders if they thought he ran away.

Wonders how he could ever forgive himself if it ever turned out that they did think that.

Coran is brushing Clarabelle’s tail, carefully avoiding her neat little bow when Lance asks. He doesn’t even hesitate before responding.

“My boy, I’m certain that they never stopped looking.”

Lance swallows the ball of emotion in his throat. Turning his attention back to brushing Clarabelle’s sides. If Coran hears his quiet sniffles, he doesn’t say anything.

XxX

“Last year I found out I wasn’t gunna go to college.”

He and Coran are raking away any dead grass in Clarabelle’s field before they can turn on the sprinklers to keep the glass growing.

“My dad told me not to bother applying.”

Lance pulls the dead grass into a pile, pushing it into a vent in one of the walls to send it down to the compost pile he has cooking in one of the other rooms. He wants to try growing space tomatoes.

“He said I was just gunna end up working on the farm. That I wasn’t married like my oldest brother, or a big shot football player like my other brother, or on scholarship like my sister.”

Lance hangs his rake up with the other equipment he’s been slowly gathering in Clarabelle’s hut.

“That doesn't seem very kind.” Coran offers, beginning to stack Clarabelle’s water buckets on top of each other.

Lance lets out a soft huffing laugh.

“It wasn’t.”

“Well what did you do?” Coran asks, lavender eyes landing on him inquisitively.

Lance’s smile trembled, something like pain tingling in his eyes.

“I told him I hated him.”

XxX

“They miss you.”

Coran doesn’t even need to tell Lance who it is for him to understand. Lance swallows back the pulse of pain that’s been simmering in his body for the last week.

“They truly thought what they were doing was best.”

Lance nods. He’d figured that out a while ago. Tried putting himself in their shoes. Asked himself what he would’ve done.

Unsurprisingly, he’d probably have done the same. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Coran is silent for a moment, watching as Lance tried scraping dried food goo off one of Clarabelle’s hooves. She accidentally trampled his box of supplies and gotten her shiny black hooves coated in goo.

“They love you.”

Lance keeps his head down, eyes focused on the scraper he’s using to pry the goo out between Clarabelle’s claws. He pretends that the slightly blurry appearance in his eyes is because of a rogue speck of food flying into them.

“They consider you family.”

Lance lets out a wet laugh, shaking hands petting Clarabelle’s hind to calm her down.

“I had a family Coran. I just needed the one.”

XxX

Sometimes Lance will follow Coran on his nightly rounds, sitting under the blue crystal in the main deck.

“The doors to the waste ejection keep opening without directly being commanded.” Coran informs Lance for their nightly castle repairs. Coran is at the uppermost station, hands summoning and banishing various screens. One is of the waste doors opening and closing while Coran tries running several models for solution.

Lance is only half paying attention to Coran’s curses of ‘quiznack’, eyes instead locked on the star model floating above their heads.

“Coran?” Lance asks.

“Yes, my boy?”

“How far are we from Earth?”

It was just to quell his nervous mind. To quiet the thoughts in his head of sneaking off in Blue, of flying back to Earth. But deep inside he couldn’t do that- couldn’t use the skills taught to him by Keith to pull something like that.

No. Not even on his darkest day.

Coran is silent for a moment, monitors stuck on the image of the ejection doors opening and closing.

Suddenly, the star maps descend- surrounding Lance in small models of distant stars and galaxies.

“Well if we wanted to be accurate, from our current position your home planet is all the way over-”

Coran scrolls. Lance half expects him to stop after the first minute. But he doesn’t. Not after the first. Not even after the fifth.

It’s when he’s zoning out that he notices the black object that flies through the ejection doors when it opens once again. From the monitors it’s vaguely familiar. Like a torpedo but shaped more like a triangle.

Lance can’t quite recall where he’d seen it.

It’s only when he hears the approaching hum, one that’s coming from down the hall that the memory finally hits him.

The triangle-torpedos.

The ones that made it through the particle barrier just as it finally collapsed.

Lance startles up, alarms ringing in his chest just as the main deck doors open.

“Coran! There’s-”

His words get cut off when the ginger Altean’s lavender eyes sharpen, gaze locking on Lance and rushing toward him, arms outstretched.

Lance barely sees anything else when the torpedo makes contact and blows them both back.

XxX

Lance sits up slowly, registering pain in his sides and a ringing in his ears. At first he’d thought it was from the explosion. It takes him a second to realize that it’s the Castle’s Alarm.

The alert that lets them know that the Galra have been detected.

Lance sits up in distress, gripping his sides but silently thanking himself for deciding to keep wearing his armour in the week he’d been avoiding the others rather than trying to sneak into his room and risk alerting Keith.

Before Lance can even attempt rising to his knees, the deck’s door slide open again. Lance is already tensing, jaw clenching in dread at the thought of another explosion. Instead, the other paladins flood in, armoured up as they slide to a stop at the sight of the strewn metal from the torpedo.

“Coran!”

Lance startles at the yell. Eyes sharpening as he begins scanning in front of him, freezing when he spots Coran sprwled a few feet away from him.

Unmoving.

“ _No_.” Lance breathes, forcing himself to his feet and stumbling over to where Allura is kneeled beside the other Alteans side.

Lance doesn’t even glance at her when she startles at his sudden appearance through the smoke filling the room.

“Coran?” Lance breathes, ribs aching in his chest as he bends over, pressing his ear to the other man’s chest. A slow but steady ‘thump’ pulses under his ear and Lance allows himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Lance?”

The sound of his name has him pushing his head back up, meeting the wide-eyed gazes of the other paladins.

The smouldering fire that’d been a raging inferno just days ago is nothing but weakly glowing coals now.

“Hi.”

Their eyes are incredulous as Lance points to the pieces of shrapnel scattered throughout the room.

“Those things are the triangle torpedos from  earlier, I saw them get through the particle barrier while you guys were fighting the Galra.”

Allura frowns in confusion her tired eyes flickering around the room before settling back down on Coran, who’s brows are furrowed slightly.

“Torped-?”

“The trackers.” Pidge interjects, their brown eyes flickering between Lance and the ground. “One of them must’ve latched onto the Castle before we were able to wormhole away.”

“But how? I thought the Castle scanned for them after every battle?” Hunk asks, eyes stuck between locking on Lance or locking on Coran.

“Not necessarily.” Allura offers, kneeling and pulling Coran into her arms. Lance nearly protests before remembering that chances were she knew more about Altean biology to help him than Lance did. “It’s a manual feature. Procedure is to scan the Castle for trackers immediately after battle. Coran must have forgotten to this time.”

Allura’s brows furrowed in confusion. Lance is too before the memory of the moments following the battle hit him.

 _“It’s my fault.”_ He breathes out. The others flick their gazes to him. “He was worried about me and tried to help me. He didn’t do the scan because of me.”

The horror begins digging its claws into Lance. He can feel his body begin to tremble.

_“It’s my fault.”_

“ _No_.”

The harsh tone has Lance looking back up. His eyes lock with Keith’s gaze, narrowed on Lance.

“Coran would _never_ blame you for this don’t _you dare try to_.”

Lance’s mouth falls open, the grief that’s been clinging to him for days easing slightly at the sight of Keith. Before returning to fold at the sight of _Keith_.

Rather than say anything, Lance’s eyes flicker back down.

Lance can still feel the other boy’s eyes on him.

“If this thing’s been on the Castle for a week then why wait until now to attack?” Shiro asks as Lance folds Coran’s burned hands up to rest on his stomach as Allura stood up.

“It’s a tracker, Shiro.” Pidge replied. “They’re supposed to lie dormant until their programmers have caught up with the target.”

No sooner does Pidge finish speaking than the entire deck shakes with a force that Lance is unpleasantly familiar with.

“Galra!” Allura exclaims, hands pulling Coran closer to her as the projections flicker to show the rows and rows of battleships aimed at them.

“Quiznack.” Allura curses, eyes glaring up at the screen. Lance takes a step back as one of the ships suddenly releases a cloud of smaller fighters.

“Get to the Lions!” Shiro immediately ordered.

“But Coran!” Lance protests, stepping forward as his brows furrowed in concern. The ginger Alteans breathing had been getting steadily weaker.

“He’s right.” Allura agreed, brow furrowing in concern. “Coran is injured, we cannot leave him unprotected in an unpiloted Castle.”

“But we need Voltron.” Pidge pointed out, eyes uneasily glaring up at the monitors.

Lance is staring down at Coran’s injured back, his clothes charred with the heat of the explosion.  His eyes fall down to his own armour, singed but not burned. His side aches but he can still stand. Can still _run_ if her needs to.

“I’ll go.”

Allura startles, gaze flickering over to him.

“Lance-”

“I am a Blue Paladin, you said it yourself. I can fly Blue.”

Shiro’s face is creased in concern.

“Lance you’ve only flown simulations. Out there, you could get seriously hurt if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll be okay.” Lance says, already heading for the Blue Lion’s lift. “My teacher was the greatest pilot to ever walk through the Garrison.”

Keith’s head whips over to him, eyes wide.

“Wait, Lance!”

Lance is already stepping into the elevator, intent on going down before any of them can stop him. Allura’s hand slides through just before it can close.

“Allura I’m going!” Lance says hotlet, ready to fight his way down if he has to, injuries be damned.

“I know.” Allura breathes, blue cheek marks nearly glowing as he stretched out her hand, offering the bayard nestled in her palms. “I believe it is your day.”

Lance reaches for it, almost robotically. Voice unable to form the worlds as he hold the familiar weight back in his hands.

Allura places it in his hand, fingers curling over Lance’s to ensure a tight grip.

“You will be a great Paladin.”

Lance doesn’t know why those words strike something in him. Almost a month ago they would’ve meant absolutely nothing. But now.

Now he feels like he’s been waiting to hear those words his whole life.

XxX

Flying for real is nothing like flying a simulator.

It was like trying to compare _driving_ a car versus _being_ the car.

Lance doesn’t even have his license. He’s failed the test twice already and now he was being tasked with being able to swerve and maneuver around speeding Galra fighters that were out for his blood.

He barely manages to avoid fire from one of them before nearly crashing into one of the big warships gunning for the Castle.

“Lance.” One of Lance’s comms crackle to life, Keith’s voice invading his headset. “Focus, it’s just like the simulator- keep your eye on the prize okay? Aim for the finish line.”

“Which finish line?” Lance can’t help but snap back, the edge of aggression still well in his system.

“One at a time.” Keith repeats slowly. “Lock onto one. Take them down. Move onto the next.”

Lance bites down on his lip, eyes trying to pick one of the hundreds that were flying by him at dizzying speeds. They were moving too fast for him to be able to focus.

“K-Keith I, they’re going to fast I can’t focus-”

Lance pushes Blue faster, because if he can’t hit them they may as well not be able to hit him.

“Yes you can,” Keith soothes, appearing in Lance’s screen just in time to knock out the two fighters that were tailing him. “If you’ve done it once, you’ve done it a million times. It’s like- It’s just like…like Virtura Cop, remember?”

Lance’s harried breathes slow down.

“What did you say?”

“Virtura Cop.” Keith replies, voice coated with something. “You were the high score holder for 1 and 2.”

Lance blinks, the soup of nervousness that’s been swirling in his gut lightening.

“I thought you weren’t listening when I said that, you told me you hated video games.”

Keith lets out a shaky breath over their comms. Lance can almost see the slight upturn of his lips.

“I listened to everything you said, Lance.” Keith says it so softly, so reverently. Lance doesn’t know what to do with his hands when a fighter suddenly appears in front of him. Acting almost out of reflex, he pushes back Blue’s steering staffs, flicking one with his wrist that activates the tail cannon.

A beam of light bursts out and Lance flies through the smoke coming from the destroyed ship.

“I did it.” Lance whispers, stunned.

Lance can practically hear the smile in Keith’s voice.

“Yes.” He says, voice back to the way he usually talked whenever Lance would do something to endear him. Lance almost lets his lips quirk up in a smile.

But he can’t quite bring himself to do it.

A projection suddenly appears at Lance’s side. The faces of the four other paladins are at Lance’s fingertips, their expressions equally narrowed on their own battles as Lance starts flying under the belly of one of the ships where the fighters can’t reach him. He starts firing scattered shots at the cruiser.

“There’s too many for us to take on our own!” Pidge grunts out as they fly alongside the Yellow Lion, cloaked and attacking the stray fighters that come after Hunk.

“I know.” Shiro manages to make out, his Lion flying around the biggest central cruiser. Lance can’t spot where Keith is, the other Paladin nothing but an occasional red streak, going too fast for him to be able to keep track of.

He had no idea Keith was that fast.

“We’re going to need Voltron if we can’t take these guys out or clear a path so we can wormhole out of here.” Pidge points out. Their gaze briefly flickers to Lance through the screen and Lance feels something in him tighten. Something that makes him feel indignant.

“I _can_ do it.” Lance stresses, lips pusing together as he begins chasing two fighter, latching Blue’s jaws onto them before flinging them at one another.

Shiro’s eyes briefly flicker over to Lance, emotion passing through his eyes before focusing back on the cruiser he was slicing with Black’s jawblades.

“Lance,” Shiro began, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried keeping his voice gentle.

“We might not be able to form Voltron-”

“You don’t know that!” Lance yells back, yelping when a fighter drives itself directly into Blue’s stomach.

“But I do.” Shiro assures.

Lance feels the smouldering coals inside him flare back up.

“No. You don’t! You don’t _know_ me-”

“You haven’t forgiven us.”

Lance’s words get caught in his throat.

“We hurt you.” Shiro began, voice wavering slightly as he drove his Lion into the cruiser. “Badly. Bad enough that you didn’t even want to see us until it was absolutely necessary.”

Lance can’t even deny that. Because he knows it’s true. Had Coran just fixed the ejection doors, Lance would’ve just walked back to Clarabelle’s hut.

“We won’t form Voltron-not until it’s on your terms.”

“Shiro-” Lance began.

“I’m not going to take this from you too.”

Shiro can’t meet his eyes, gaze locked on the fighter ganging up on Pidge. Lance can see the tension in his jaw. Hunk’s panicked breathes are making their way through their shared calms. Pidge has muted themselves but Lance can see their mouth moving in various swear, expletives flying out of them at lightspeed. Keith lips are pressed together, eyes focused desperately on an entire line of fighters all firing at him from different angles.

_‘I hate you.’_

The words are tugging at his mind, spilling into his brain.

_‘I hate you.’_

Lance doesn’t use ‘hate’ lightly. One other time he’d said it. To one other person.

At the time he’d meant it. With his whole heart, mind, and body he’d meant it.

The hurt and burning hatred he’d felt for his parents and siblings and the other paladins were exactly the same in all ways but one.

Lance had forgiven one of them.

They hadn’t even apologized. It was Lance who did the forgiving, who excused them.

Who chose to believe that he could build his happiness in other ways.

And no one ever apologized to him for making him do that.

But _these_ were the people he hated?

Fighting tooth and nail, so he could choose something.

_That was where his hatred was?_

With Shiro?

With Allura?

With Hunk?

With Pidge?

With Keith?

Keith?

Who’d not only trained Lance day in and day out, but _listened_ to him. Like actually, full on listened to him.

Who puts his hands over Lance’s and taught him how to fly.

Who looked out for him, even though he didn’t have to. Even though he could’ve passed him off to the gladiators, let him learn trial by fire.

He _hated_ him?

He was going to bring a boy he hated to Prom? To his home? To meet his family?

_That’s who he hated?_

Something began blooming in Lance’s chest. A tugging that pulled him toward the other Lions as they all scratched and bit at the fighters rounding them up.

“I’m here!” Lance called out, reaching out for them. He didn’t know why but it was almost like he could touch them, feel them brushing on the edge of his mind.

_He hated them?_

A warmth crossed over him as he latched onto Keith. A burst of surprise followed by the lull of affection, relief, passion, lov-

Lance felt the link stretch into Hunk. Anxiety, fear, happiness, joy.

Pidge. Hesitance, curiosity, glee, delight.

Shiro. Sadness, shame,  cautious, bliss.

_He hates them?_

Lance feels distress suddenly flare in the bond. He wonders if they heard him.

If they can hear him now.

_No._

_Never._

_Not truly._

Lance wonders if they understood that.

Lance knows hatred. He’s felt it burn away at his insides. Latch onto him and not let go.

_But this._

_Anger. Yes._

_Hurt. Yes._

_Pain. Yes._

_Anguish. Yes._

_Hatred. No._

_Forgive?_

Lance feels them tense, feels them go as straight as rods under his fingers when he tugs them closer. He can feel Blue changing under him. He can feel the other Lions shifting as well, parts of themselves adjusting, slotting together like a puzzle piece.

_Forgive?_

Lance can feel their bated breath as Blue slowly begins sliding into place, locking together with Shiro and Hunk.

_Forgive?_

_…_

_Yes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next (and final)chap: the return to earth and lots of people are curious about the blue paladin  
> (oh and dont worry u guys wont have to wait nearly as long for this chapter because this is probably gunna be my favorite chapter to write!!)  
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the return to earth and lots of people are curious about the blue paladin

Veronica, like a lot of the other Garrison personnel had no idea what to make of the Voltron Paladins. Actually that wasn’t really true, she’d had plenty of time to makes heads or tails of the whole situation ever since the Galra descended on Earth. 

Before she’d just been one of the dozens of analysts working at the Garrison, eventually promoted to handler for the newly minted MFE pilots and apparently now, the peacemaker between them and the Voltron Paladins. 

“How does  _ he  _ know about that?!” James hisses, sticking his finger under the nose of the startled Blue Paladin, the teenager’s hands were held out in front of him like they would serve as a shield against the angered pilot.

Even though Veronica has known Griffin longer, worked alongside him on several supply runs, and trusts in his leadership- she also is well aware of his short fuse and tendency to overreact when protocol doesn’t get followed to a ‘T’. The Voltron Paladins suddenly appearing in Plaht City was probably enough of a reason for them to be put on Cadet Griffin’s shit list for the rest of their lives.

“What’s going on here?” She can’t help but intervene, stepping around a snickering Rizavi and shooting a questioning look to Kinkade standing vigilantly behind Griffin.

“The Blue Paladin made a reference to an embarrassing rumor about Griffin that cycled through the Garrison his first year.” Leifsdottir helpfully reports, standing a fair distance away from where she was still mechanically unpacking a crate of supplies.

“And I know it was  _ you  _ who started it, Kogane!” Griffin adds in, eyes narrowed on the Red Paladin who had taken a step in front of his friend, stance defensive.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The other boy immediately denies, drawl uninterested even though Veronica could see how tensed his shoulders were.

“Neither do I.” Veronica comments, raising a brow at Griffin’s increasingly incensed form. She hears Rizavi slide closer, the other girl hooking an arm around Veronica’s shoulders before loudly whispering so they could all hear.

“Word on the street was that Griffin peed his pants in the simulator during a secret late night practice.”She says it with a slightly wheezing breath like she was trying to hold herself back from laughing.

“But I  _ didn’t _ !” Griffin immediately denies, rounding on her, arms spread out like he was trying to show his innocence.  She can see a tinge of red creeping up to his ears. “That  _ dick _ ,” He says pointing at the Red Paladin over his shoulder, “has just been filling that kid’s head with stories about me!”

“I’m not a kid!” The blue armour toting Paladin finally pipes up, brows furrowed into a frown. “I turn 18 in like July, man!”

Griffin scoffs, rolling his eyes before shooting Veronica a look.

“Like I said.  _ Kid _ .”

Now the Blue Paladin was getting huffy, his cheeks turning red with an embarrassed blush that reminded her so starkly of her nephew that she had to stop herself from reaching over Kogane’s shoulder and pinching his cheek. 

Instead, she clears her throat, shrugging Rizavi’s arm of her shoulders before corralling her and the other MFE’s in the direction of Leifsdottir’s one-woman supply sorting line.

“Alright well let’s just break it up- we all have work to do.” She forces Griffin’s head forward when he tries to look over his shoulder one final time and puts him in front of Kinkade, who’s broad chest would block out any view of the Voltron Paladins.

She spins back around on her heels when she sees Griffin reluctantly begin tugging out stacks of first-aid kits from the crate. 

Kogane’s gaze is still straying occasionally towards the group of MFE’s, his hands joined with the Blue Paladin’s who just seems to be scuffing his foot against the floor like a toddler getting ready for a scolding, he’s watching Veronica with weary eyes, like he expects her to start ripping into them next.

To be honest she’d had half a mind to. She couldn’t let discord start bubbling up between the Garrison MFE’s and the Paladins, no matter how minor. But she also had about as much authority over Voltron as any other member of the Garrison, best she could do was send them on their way and try to deliver a word to their direct superiors- though she still wasn’t clear on exactly  _ who  _ that was. 

So instead she just decides to cut the two teens some slack.

This time.

“Paladins.” She finally settles, hands curled around her tablet, bringing it to her chest in a half sort of salute. “As you were.”

Kogane’s eyes immediately flicker back to her, his back straightening marginally in some sort of unconscious acknowledgement that has Veronica’s chest puffing slightly in satisfaction. The Blue Paladin, however remains unmoved, gaze slightly confused as they bounce back and forth between her and Kogane like he was trying to puzzle out their short acknowledgement.

“Let’s go.” Kogane murmurs quietly, barely loud enough for her to hear, bending his head down to whisper into the other Paladin’s ear. His companion nods sharply, intertwining their fingers together and shooting her a final furtive glance. 

The pair are just about to turn, laced around one another to head in the direction of Landing Bay 14 when something plucks inside of her. She doesn’t realize she’s speaking until the question has already left her mouth.

“Hold on a second.” She blurts out. 

They freeze. 

“What are your names?”

Kogane is back to eyeing her with a steely gaze, almost sizing her up like weighing out the pros and cons of forking over information she already likely knows about him. 

“Keith Kogane…” He begins slowly like she’s going to use his own name against him, “... and-”

This time he glance over at his friend who’s also stopped and is staring back at her skittishly. He exchanges a look with Keith and slowly opens his mouth, hands clenched nervously against his stomach.

“I’m Lance.” He starts, not quite meeting Veronica’s eyes. “Lance McClain.”

Keith stares her down, raising a brow in what looked like a silent question.

_ ‘We done?’ _

Veronica nods, acquiescing, and watches as the two continue on their way, occasionally leaning in close to brush against each other and whisper to one another (the Red Paladin doing so more frequently than the Blue). She stares for a second longer before turning back around and pulling up the docket for the carts of supplies her team is in charge of unpacking.

Griffin is still on edge, a furrow of annoyance still formed between his brows when she starts checking off items from her list.

“Soooo?” Rizavi starts, word trailing off like she was expecting Veronica to start spilling out some juicy gossip from the 2-second interaction she’d had.

“ _ So _ , what?” Veronica asks back, not lifting her eyes from the serial numbers on her list and matching them to unopened packs of supplies.

“Did anything happen? Did they say anything? Did  _ you  _ say anything?” Rizavi asks, poking for information even as she helps Kinkade lift emptied boxes off the table.

Veronica glances up and sees all but Ina watching her with half to full blown inquiry. In return she shrugs, adjusting her glasses and quickly typing in the amount of ammo they have available from their latest supply run.

“I just asked for their names.” 

Rizavi slumps down in clear disappointment turning back to where Ina is steadily flipping through stacks of water purification tablets. Griffin lets out a slight huff through his nose and slaps his own tablet down on the table. Kinkade raises a brow at her but doesn’t voice his question.

Veronica goes back to typing her report to submit to the Garrison’s dossier and tries not to let her mind stray back to the two Paladins she’d finally crossed paths with.

_ ‘McClain, huh?’ _

She still can’t help but let float through her mind, something like half-hearted interest flowing through her.

_ ‘How serendipitous.’ _

XxX

Afterwards most of what Veronica heard about the Voltron Paladins and their alien Princess and her Altean kin was second hand. Which made sense considering Voltron was all the gossip mill talked about lately.

She’s standing beside her mom, waiting in line to get her family’s set of rations when it happens for the first time. 

She doesn’t know the officer manning the distribution station but his eyes widen slightly when she offers her name, rank, and tries to hand over their weekly punch card. The unnamed officer doesn’t take the card like normal, instead darting to the back and coming back out with at least double the supplies they usually get (even with Veronica’s high positioning at the Garrison). 

Her mom is nearly as dumbfounded as Veronica is when he clasps her hand in what seems like gratitude and firm acknowledgment.  

“Tell your brother ‘thank you’ for everything he’s doing.” He says lowly, eyes never leaving hers. 

Veronica has no idea what to say, mouth caught between falling open and clicking shut. 

The line behind her is growing agitated so she has no choice but to start stacking their doubled supplies ( _ doubled _ ) and help her mom carry them back to their family’s quarters.

“Veronica,” Her mom asks, brown eyes glancing over at her in stunned confusion when they’re halfway back. “What was that? Why did that man tell you to thank your brother?”

Veronica has no idea and honestly doesn’t know what to tell her. She can’t think of a single thing Marco or Luis could’ve possibly have done to warrant doubling their rations. Not that she wasn’t grateful, because she’d seen how lethargic the small portions they all had to split made the rest of her family. 

It’d just about broken her heart when she’d seen Sylvio try to spoon off some of his grits into Nadia’s bowl claiming to be ‘not hungry’ when he’d gotten caught. 

“I don’t know mama.” She says back, voice quiet.

When they get back to the room, Veronica starts putting away cans of sweet plums and corn in one of the cabinets while her mother steadily makes her way to where Luis is helping Lisa sew together an old torn blanket Veronica had picked up on one her runs with the MFE’s. 

She barely hears the quick whispered conversation, knowing her mother’s intonation of question well enough to know that she was interrogating him. She does the same to Marco minutes later when he walks in with Nadia on his heels and Sylvio riding on his back. 

By the time her dad comes back the entire room is filled with speculative confusion, eyes occasionally straying to the full cabinets of food that hadn’t been that bursting with food since the Galra invaded three years back.

Veronica knows they all are brimming with questions, their shared confusion practically palpable.

But she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth when at dinner  _ everyone  _ can have seconds.

Still, the question remains, hanging at the back of her head.

It’s not until later that she gets her answer.

XxX

Veronica half wonders if she has a sign hanging on her back. Or something on her face.

Because she’s starting to notice a trend among both her fellow officers and the resistance network members. 

Mostly it’s conversation that suddenly becomes hushed when she walks into a room. Eyes that follow her even when she pretends not to notice. 

And the borderline reverence that people start treating her with.

It’s something that puts her on edge even though it’s steadily making things better for her family. 

They get first dibs on supply spares. When not given more rations they’re typically offered more calorie heavy ones. An officer offers Nadia and Sylvio mints whenever they see them playing in the halls with the other children. A group of resistance members rush to help her mom when she slips one day.

It has Veronica tensing in preparation whenever she leaves her family’s room.

But eventually, their hushed works make it to her ears.

And she can’t say she’s happy with what she hears.

_ ‘Blue Paladin’ _

They whisper on repeat.

_ ‘That’s his sister.’  _ They subtly point her out in a crowd.

_ ‘She’s the Blue Paladin’s sister.’ _

Lance McClain. The name rolls around in her mind for hours when she finally figures it out. Lance  _ McClain _ . Veronica  _ McClain _ .

_ Christ. _

XxX

“So I think Kogane’s in love with your brother.” Griffin drawls out one day during team training.

“He’s not my brother.” Veronica half bites back, lowering herself down into a stretch. “I don’t even know the kid.” 

Griffin raises a brow.

“Really?” Rizavi asks, eyes glittering in interest as she does bicycle kicks alongside Kinkade. “That’s not what everyone else says-”

“Well, everyone else is wrong.” Veronica interrupts, the tension from the last few days still lingering. “We just happen to share a last name and everyone is drawing conclusions.”

“It may also have to do with the faint resemblance you and your family share with the Blue Paladin.” Ina chimes in, not looking up from where Griffin is spotting her on weights.

Veronica releases a slow breath through her nose at that and tries to pass it off as release from her falling into a full split.

“We don’t look that similar.” She murmurs, not engaging for the rest of their slotted time even though Rizavi tries again and again to rouse her interest.

She also does her best not to react when people start asking her questions about Lance, doing her best to avoid giving any clear answers.

She’s not sure why she’s so indignant at being tied to a stranger. From what she’s heard, Lance McClain isn’t a bad kid. A bit on the silent side and never without another Paladin or Altean at his side- but decent nonetheless.

Still, when Griffin volunteers Veronica to drive her ‘not-brother’ to Base One of Voltron’s coordinated attack, she can’t help but shoot an annoyed look over her shoulder at the MFE standing behind her.

XxX

At their departure, Veronica knows she’s a bit short with Lance. 

Knows it but can’t for the life of her figure out why. 

Lance takes a moment to wish Princess Allura luck with her plan to power the Atlas and a minute to quietly speak with the Red Paladin.

She thinks Griffin might be right because she catches how Kogane’s eyes linger on Lance’s face, his fingers still reaching for the other boy when they pull apart and Keith starts making his way to where Ina’s plane is stationed.

Lance tries offering her a hesitant smile when he climbs into the seat next to her. She doesn’t return the look, already starting the cruiser.

She still feels a bit apologetic when the smile slips off his face and the two descend into an uncomfortable silence on the way to the drop zone.

The silence lasts until the Blue Lion doesn’t show up and Galra fighters descend on them.

XxX

Veronica doesn’t recall much of the crash. Just the sudden explosion, the heat from Galra blasters, and the harsh landing of being thrown from their vehicle.

She does recall Lance struggling to his feet, his armour scraped from the crash and rushing to her side when sentries drop down. His shield comes down in front of her, positioned to protect her and leaving himself open. 

She phases in and out of consciousness, startling when a sharp  _ ‘boom’  _ echoes through the desert.

The Blue Lion picks Lance up, but not before the boy props her up on a scrap of the ship the Lion has crushed under their paw with a rushed promise that the Garrison would dispatch someone to pick her up.

She manages to stay alert long enough to see Lance’s promise through. 

The next time she wakes up, the Galra have been destroyed. 

Earth has been reclaimed. 

The Altean Princess has managed to power and transform the ATLAS into a machine capable of holding its own against the Galra’s creations.

And Lance McClain is heavily injured.

XxX

She hadn’t been absolutely certain of what she was going to say when she reached the boy’s room.

She’d hardly made a stellar first impression.

Still, as soon as she’d been given a clean bill of health she’d armed herself up with a box filled with cookies she’d helped her dad make with what little flour they had and started in the direction the rumor mill pointed her toward.

Visitation rights were being limited to friends and family. She knew that much and also knew that no higher ups actually believed she was really related to the Blue Paladin- a quick glance at her records would confirm as much but she still couldn’t help but hope they’d at least make an exception for her.

When she turns the corner and spots the Head of Medical and Iverson quietly arguing in front of a quarantined room with Captain Allura and the Black Paladin, the hope practically fizzles out of her like an untied balloon. 

“I would simply like an explanation for why we are not being permitted to see the Blue Paladin.” Captain Allura says, chin pointed out and expression tight as she meets the head medic’s unyielding gaze.

“We just want to check on him,” Shirogane adds, brows furrowed as he stares down Iverson. “He should be waking up soon and we don’t want him to be alone when that happens.”

“Shirogane-” Iverson begins as Veronica starts closer. “You are still injured and should not have left your room in the first place-”

It’s at this point that Veronica notices how Takashi Shirogane is balancing precariously on one leg, resting his weight on the crutch he has propped under his human arm while his robotic arm is propped against the wall and appears to be providing additional stability.

“And we’re not preventing you from entering his room out of malice.” The medic adds in, raising their chart that appears to be the very short and hastily written. “Unlike your other friends, Lance McClain has no medical file with the Garrison. We’ve had to do a complete blood count and basic metabolic panel and in doing so found that your friend is not immunized against  _ any  _ diseases from the last decade-”

At this she can see how Shirogane tenses, Captain Allura’s back also straightening as the medic starts going into the poor conditions humans were forced to work under in the Galran camps. How it led to the secondary disaster of disease. 

“-You will be permitted to see him once his observation period is over. But until then only properly equipped medics will be able to see him.”

It’s those words that spark an idea in Veronica’s mind. She’s not a medic. Not  _ technically _ , but she has the training under her belt that she’d fulfilled as handler for the MFE’s. And based on the looks Shirogane and Captain Allura have, she’s willing to bet they’d take her over nothing.

XxX

She ends up becoming Voltron’s gofer, ferrying messages between the other Paladins and Lance.

Usually they’re short, small enough to fit on scraps of paper that Veronica can slip into a clear bag that’ll pass inspection. She and Lance don’t speak much, neither having much idea of what to say- she figures he’s better at making conversation when it’s with someone he already knows given how long his letters seem to be (especially when they’re addressed to Kogane).

Still, she hopes he can see how she’s trying to make up for the annoyance he doesn’t know she felt at being associated with him. 

She also thinks how the other Paladins also don’t seem to be that bad.

XxX

Veronica reconsiders her stance on the Paladins when she catches three of them attempting to break Lance out.

It’d been by pure chance that she caught them attempting to steal an AW-Cruiser, taking a shortcut through the Garrison’s stationary after being dismissed for the night and stumbling across the Red Paladin picking the lock for one of the Garrison issue cars. 

The Green and Yellow Paladins are both acting as lookouts that somehow don’t spot her when she comes up behind them and sees Lance, wrapped head to toe in heavy blankets like he was just pulled out of bed.

Given how messy his bed head is and how he’s trying to suppress a yawn, she’s pretty sure she’s right. 

Lance spots her first, meeting her eyes in the reflection in one of the side windows while the Red Paladin is too busy cursing at the car.

“The fuel is rationed.” She comments, repressing a smile when all Paladins but Lance jump at her words. 

Kogane whips around, getting off his knees and turning to face her with a wary gaze. Veronica meets the look.

“Wherever you’re going you won’t get far, fuel’s only supposed to take you out 20 miles max. You’ll get stranded out there.”

Pidge, Commander Holt’s child, exchanges a look with the Yellow Paladin (Hunk, she recalls from the letters)  whose soft gaze suddenly becomes pleading when they turn back to look her.

“Wait,” He starts, “please don’t tell-”

“We’re going to Arizona.” Lance reveals, voice raised slightly. He stares at Veronica with a look, she can’t quite discern. Though it doesn’t feel particularly chummy. 

A jolt of hurt flows through her at the expression but Veronica blinks and it’s gone. 

“Where do we get more fuel?” Pidge interrogates, eyes narrowed on her. Veronica raises a brow.

“You can’t.” She shrugs. “Only officers have clearance for the store rooms.”

She sees how quickly all their expressions crumble. But the sight of Lance’s makes her mouth move faster than brain.

“But I can get some.”

Their eyes lighten with something that looks like hope.

“If I can come.”

It dims again.

Veronica tries her best not to feel offended.

XxX

She learns, as she’s driving them to an Arizona town whose name she’s never heard of, that Shirogane and the Alteans are distracting the medics for the night. The four of them allowing the scientists and engineers of the staff to ply them with questions on their biology and enhancements. 

Their plan and execution was too nicely cut to be spontaneous. But that shouldn't surprise her given how both Garrett and Kogane had both attempted to sneak away with a cruiser before as she’d heard the story of how Griffin (of all people) had helped them locate Hunk’s family numerous times from Rizavi. (Though Veronica was sure it had less to do with being impressed by James’s actions and more to do with something to hang over the other boy’s head).

They’d had their distraction in place and knew enough about the quarantine codes to be able to get Lance’s door open. But to do that they’d had to have had some form of communication...between them.

Veronica purses her lips and decides not to mention to any of her superiors when they return that she’d been couriering unchecked messages between the Paladins for almost two weeks.

XxX

They’re about an hour into their drive when the roads of the city they’re driving though become blocked off by fallen skyscrapers. Veronica circles several city blocks for a workaround before she plots out a course with the manual cruiser map and heads for the subway system. They’re going to be stuck using a combination of transportation routes and connected WWIII underground tunnels. 

Veronica telling the Paladins as much is met for the most part with murmured acknowledgement from the others. But Lance sputters at the information, bolting upright at her plan and staring around at the dimly lit tunnels in a daze. 

Strangely he seems caught between speaking, alternating between opening his mouth and snuggling further down into his cocoon of blankets that he’s sharing with the others in the back seats.

Finally he seems to decide on staring out the window of the cruiser, his wide blue eyes taking in the walls around him like he couldn’t fully comprehend them. 

Veronica watches him through the rear-view mirror but doesn’t say anything.

XxX

The town they arrive to looks like it could belong on a commercial for small town getaways.

It’s mostly untouched, the main street that’s filled with businesses holding the only evidence of the Galra’s presence. Scorch marks from blasters litter the main street, broken glass from various business left uncleaned from the initial invasion. Grass and foliage has grown unkempt and the ground is littered with dead leaves no one raked up during the past 3 autumns.

The map leaves them at the entrance to the town, the welcoming sign half destroyed with just the words _ ‘Welcome to-’  _ left. 

Veronica half turns in her seat not certain about how to proceed. The other Paladins are staring at Lance, looks of varying uncertainty as Lance’s eyes remain unmoved, locked on the welcome sign.

“Lance?” She asks hesitantly, brows furrowing in slight concern at the glazed look in the boy’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

“They changed the sign.”

Veronica glances back at the sign. It’s half charred and she can’t make out much of what was supposed to be on it. 

It occurs to her that she never asked what they were coming to the Arizona town for. 

Lance’s eyes snap back to the front and he half crawls his way into the seat beside Veronica, giving a terse request for her to turn left at some monument.

By the third turn Veronica has become almost certain that they’re driving around in the remains of Lance’s hometown.

XxX

Lance makes them stop in the middle of a major road, facing what looks like the parking lot for a mall just as the sun begins to rise.

They sit in silence for a full minute. Lance doesn’t offer any instruction or any explanation.

He just sits silently, staring at the parking lot in front of them with an eerily blank expression.

“Lance?” She asks slowly. Lance doesn’t even twitch at her voice.

“Buddy?” Hunk says quietly from the back. “Are you okay?”

Slow questions of concern start bubbling up from the back and that’s when Veronica knows that they’re all as lost as she is. 

Keith’s hand slowly creeps up from the back, resting softly on Lance’s shoulder.

That seems to at least snap Lance out of whatever daze he’s in. Before Veronica or anyone can say anything Lance is unlocking the door to the cruiser and jumping out.

Veronica and the others scramble after him. 

Where their actions probably stem more for concern for their friend, Veronica’s stems from fear and getting hit from the sudden image of Lance somehow falling ill.

She’d made them swear to her before they lefy that wherever they went Lance wouldn’t be getting out of the vehicle.

When Veronica catches up with them it’s to the sight of Lance pacing, his blanket dragging across the dirty ground.  His arms are outstretched in front of him, waving around in circular motions like he’s trying to find something he can’t see. 

He looks...lost.

More so than Veronica feels.

“W-where is it?” 

She can hear him asking in a wet voice as she slows to a stop.

“W-where’s all the c-corn?” His voice is shaky, raspy like he’s struggling to speak. Lance hasn’t turned to face them.

“Where’s m-my h-house?”

“Lance…” Hunk begins slowly, his voice in a low whisper. Veronica turns to him and sees his brown eyes wided, frozen hands reaching for the Blue Paladin. There’s something in his expression that unsettles Veronica. Like he’s realized something and it wasn’t good.

She turns to look at Keith and Pidge, the same light steadily enters their eyes with Pidge letting out a quiet gasp as they also start looking around their surroundings with some quietly bewildered expression.

_ “What happened to my  _ **_house_ ** _?” _ Lance asks with such devastation, his voice thick with emotion as he stumbles to his knees. Keith is by his side in an instant, slipping his hands under the boys shoulder’s. Veronica can see the uncertainty in Keith’s eyes, but his hands never hesitate as he curls Lance closer to him. 

It’s when Lance’s head turns, burying his face in the crook of Keith’s neck that Veronica sees the tears streaming down the boy’s cheeks. His eyes are scrunched closed in distress as Lance’s face turns red, his breathes coming out in wheezing breathes like he’s struggling to breathe. 

Veronica almost starts over, concern rising in her chest at the sight. But she doesn’t, something stopping her even as Hunk and Pidge slowly approach. 

The three other Paladins all try offering soft whispered words of comfort as Lance’s sobs are muffled into Keith’s shoulder, the Red Paladin running gentle hands through Lance’s hair. Pidge tucks themselves in close to Lance’s side, wrapping their hands around his waist as Hunk wraps them all up in his arms. 

Lance’s cries never quiet and Veronica has never felt like she was intruding on something more than she did then. 

Slowly, she backs away, intent on waiting in the cruiser where she’d at least be able to offer them some privacy because- this was not something she had a right to either intrude on or witness.  

Slowly Veronica climbs back in, eyes cast down as she hears Lance’s sniffled words.

“They f-forgot about m-me didn’t they.” 

XxX

The ride back to base is quiet.

Veronica is half sure that Lance falls asleep, either from being up all night or exhaustion from crying. Either way he rests the entire way back, his head nestled in Pidge’s lap. 

Hunk sits at the front with Veronica but spends more time watching the others through the rear-view mirror than anything else. Keith is tucked somewhere by Lance’s feet, his eyes glaring out the window, his brows furrowed together.

Veronica doesn’t feel much like speaking even if any of them did try to offer up a conversation.

They get back to the Garrison at around late afternoon. 

Iverson and the Head of Medical are waiting for them at the gate along with Captain Allura and Shirogane.

Veronica gets torn to shreds in front of anyone watching- which is her family, the MFE’s and the entire Garrison.

She doesn’t give a shit.

XxX

Lance gets cleared from quarantine two days later. 

She hears nothing but second hand information about him for a week.

XxX

She’s about to have dinner with the rest of her family in the ATLAS’s comissery when she spots Lance across the hall.

He’s wide eyed and uncertain, holding a tray in his hands as he looks around, scanning the full tables for a seat.

Strangely he’s alone. Veronica only finds that unusual because in all the times she’d seen him, he’d had at someone at his side.

But now he’s by himself.

That tugs at something in her.

Veronica doesn’t realize she’s staring until her mom follows her line of sight, gaze locking on Lance who is slowly walking through the commissary, face flushed in what looks like embarrassment as he tries looking for a free table.

“Is that the boy Veronica?” Her mom asks quietly, brown eyes lingering on Lance who is stumbling around like a baby fawn. “The one everyone thinks is my son?”

That catches the attention of the rest of her family.

“Yes mama.” Veronica nods, brows furrowing as Lance backs into the wall, brushing against it as he tries to move past a crowd of officers who are leaving. Veronica follows his line of sight and sees how his eyes are locked on the exit.

“Is he by  _ himself _ ?” Veronica’s mom asks, this time with an edge to her voice. One that Veronica long has become accustomed to. 

Growing up with helicopter parents is not something that was particularly enjoyable. As much as she loved her parents, they hadn’t exactly made her childhood easy. Borderline smothering her, Rachel, Luis, and Marco. She knew it was from some old fear that they justified in their minds and held close to heart. The result of a great-great something or other uncle that ranaway or was kidnapped when he was a baby or a teenager. 

And now Veronica’s mom couldn’t help but get twitchy whenever she saw a child wandering around on their own. It’d been how she’d been raised, how her parents had been raised. And how Veronica had been raised.

And while Lance was no child, there was still something about him. Something that made Veronica feel strangely attentive whenever she saw him. Maybe it was the slight sparkle of his eyes or the soft roundness of his cheeks that made her eyes follow him.

Maybe. She wasn’t sure.

But it seemed like her mom was, the older woman standing up and pushing away from the table to make her way in the direction of where Lance was about to leave. 

Veronica watches as her mom softly tugs on Lance’s shoulder, the teen’s eyes flickering down to meet hers in slight surprise. Veronica’s too far and she can’t possibly hear what they’re saying but she can guess.

Lance’s eyes are uncertain, his blue gaze going back and forth between their table and Veronica’s mom. He starts shaking his head, a sheepish smile on his face like he’s trying to kindly turn down an offer. 

Veronica’s mom is undeterred, kind face glowing with a gentle smile as they offer a hand to Lance who appears stunned. Hesitantly, he accepts. Trailing behind her like a ducking as she weaves them between tables.

She hears Marco snicker and doesn’t need to say anything for Luis to kick his shins and Rachel to shush him.

Lance’s eyes meet hers and an uncertain smile tugs at his lips.

Veronica returns the look, sliding her tray closer to make more room. 

Lance ends up sitting between her mom and dad, both of whom seem to have appointed themselves his personal nutritionists and temporary guardians.

Had it been her Veronica knows she probably would’ve gotten moodier and moodier everytime she was told to _ ‘eat more peas and corn’. _

Lance practically beams at it.

Veronica doesn’t think she’s ever seen Lance smile so frequently and for such a long time. 

As she looks around the commissary she sees the looks people are shooting their table. Their eyes drawing invisible lines between Lance and them. She hears their murmurs and subtle pointing.

_ ‘The eyes, look they have the same eyes’ _

_ ‘-he has his father’s nose’ _

_ ‘-mother’s smile’ _

Veronica has no idea how Lance would take it if he found out exactly what it was people thought about them. All of them. If it would upset him, make him happy, surprise him, or have no effect.

But for Veronica-

Lance laughs, soft snorts leaving his mouth when Marco tells him some raunchy joke that has her mom smacking at his arm and Luis rolling his eyes as he covers Nadia’s ears and Lisa covers Sylvio’s.

-She’s not quite surprised to find that she doesn’t mind.

Lance's gaze shifts back to her, blue eyes almost sparkling, apples of his cheeks flushed with a pinky hue. Veronica feels her own lips begin tugging upwards, mirroring the look.

Nope. Not even a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya know something i always really loved the ending to mamma mia- that whole concept where blood confirmation for family doesn't actually matter, that it's the love you feel for someone that does.  
> which is what this ended up being- where veronica and the others are basically the great great-x grandchildren of lance's younger brother (the one that hogged his nintendo)  
> so in a way where lance believed he had lost his family and everything attached to them, he still did end up finding them again- so now he has two families  
> (and yes lance's disappearance did end up having generational consequences in which lance's youngr brother grew up more smothered which affected his own parenting and the parenting of HIS children and so on and so forth- but if anyone can get veronicas parents to lighten up its probably lance, theyd dprobably be all too willing to adopt lance once they find out from the others that hes basically an orphan)
> 
> XxX  
> lol and also alluras now the captain of the atlas bc im not over the castle of lions. keith did find his mom but didnt join the blade, he only left when lance offered to take over red for him and hold down the fort so he could find his family  
> but like this is an au so yall prob already knew shit was gunna be diff but ehh  
> XxX  
> come and destroy me on [my tumblr](http://dairy-farmer.tumblr.com/)  
> or my newly created [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/letsgethismilk)  
> 


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